


An Opportunity

by WinterRose527



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-03-10 00:40:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13493205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: It's the ideal move for her. A summer stint at one of the most reputable companies in the country, and all away from her mother? How could girl refuse?Or; In which Robb is her boss and things don't get at all complicated...





	1. An Arrangment

“This is COMPLETELY unacceptable! What can that family possibly teach her?,” her mother railed behind the closed door of her bedroom.

 

“This is the way it’s DONE woman, you know it is! And I’d rather have her learn from that family than _yours_ ,” her father shouted back. 

 

Myrcella sat on her bed. She’d only been home for her Junior year Spring Break for two days but her parents had been fighting constantly. 

 

There was something about being back in this room that always made her feel like a child again. It didn’t matter that she’d gone abroad to Essos for a semester, or that she had her own penthouse apartment in the Vale, or that she was currently on two international best dressed lists. The moment she entered this room she was five years old again, listening to her parents argue behind closed doors. 

 

She turned her music up and typed STARK INDUSTRIES into her search engine. 

 

***

 

“Oh son, before I forget, I found your new summer intern,” his father said as the family finished up dinner.

 

“Dad, you’re the CEO, why don’t you let HR handle that stuff?,” Robb asked with a bemused smile. 

 

“Because some things need to be handled personally,” his father said cryptically. 

 

“And the person whose going to be fetching Robb’s coffee is of such immense importance?,” Arya joked with a roll of her eyes. 

 

In truth, Robb never made the interns get him coffee, some helped with scheduling, but most were more research based. They were always well-bred, over-studied, twenty year olds from one of the country’s old families. It was how it was done. 

 

He’d interned at Fury Corp. under Stannis Baratheon, just like Jon and Theon had interned at Stark Industries under his father. 

 

It was a way of keeping alliances alive, and transactions private. Nothing kept people loyal like shared secrets. 

 

Robb sighed, wondering which Umber or Tyrell son would be breathing down his neck for three months.


	2. First Meetings

TWO MONTHS LATER

 

Myrcella found her way easily enough to the Stark Industry Headquarters. Unlike the modern skyscrapers that now adorned the city, it was in one of the only surviving structures from the Middle Ages, and covered six city blocks though was only three stories high. 

 

She was thankful she’d worn a sweater. Summers up North were far different to those down in King’s Landing and even at Casterly Rock, and the ancient stones seemed to imbue a chill in the air. 

 

She went to the reception desk and smiled at the old woman that sat there.

 

“Excuse me, ma’am, I’m Myrcella Baratheon, I’m here to see Mr. Robb Stark,” she said as politely as she could. Years of visiting her father and uncles at work had taught her to always befriend the receptionist. 

 

The old woman lowered her glasses and offered her a kindly smile, “Of course, Miss Baratheon, just a moment.”

 

Within a few moments, a girl, only a few years older than her, in a skirt Myrcella never would have worn to a club let alone to a job came out. 

 

“Myrcella? I’m Roslin Frey, Mr. Stark’s Executive Assistant. If you’ll come with me?,” she asked and had already started to walk away before Myrcella had a chance to rise. 

 

Myrcella stood and shot a glance at the receptionist, Nan, who winked at her as she walked away. 

 

For a rather short girl, Roslin had a very healthy stride, in stilettos no less, and Myrcella summoned her summer of modelling to keep pace with her. 

 

“This is the executive wing, Mr. Stark, senior that is, is in the corner over there, with Robb next to him. Mr. Snow is next to him, with Mr. Cassel in the last office down the line. All of their Executive Assistants sit at desks outside of their office, and all of the interns sit here, in the pit,” she said, a sardonic smile on her face on the last word. 

 

Myrcella would hardly call it a _pit_ , except that it was exposed on all sides. It was simply a large oak table, 15th Century Braavosi if she was not mistaken, with a group of laptops around it. There were three boys already seated around it, and they all stopped what they were doing as she and Roslin approached. 

 

“I’ll leave you here, your credentials are in this notebook and I will email you the tasks I require,” Roslin said. Without another look at her, she walked off to her desk. 

 

 _Someone’s on a power trip_ , she thought unkindly and shook the thought out of her head. It would not do anyone good for her to build resentments on her first day. 

 

Instead, she turned to the boys assembled around the table. At the request of her boss, Robb Stark, she hadn’t started yesterday like they had, so she had some catching up to do. 

 

“Hi - I’m Myrcella Baratheon,” she said, giving them her warmest smile.

 

“Harry Hardyng, beautiful,” a tall sandy-haired boy says, standing up and crossing to her, “Didn’t I meet you at Dickon Tarly’s 21st?” 

 

He was clearly name dropping to intimidate the other boys and while Myrcella had been there, she knew for a fact they hadn’t met. She didn’t like boys like him, with their cocky grins and sense of entitlement.

 

“It’s possible, though Dicky’s parties are always packed,” she said breezily before turning to the others.

 

The next had a kind face, and ambled forward a bit clumsily, “I’m Podrick Payne… and I wasn’t at Dickon Tarly’s 21st…” 

 

Myrcella giggles, liking him on sight, “Then I am very jealous, it’s nice to meet you Podrick.”

 

The other is possible the largest boy she’s ever seen. He would be almost ferocious looking, if his eyes weren’t so filled with mirth, “I’m Willem Umber, and uh… don’t let Roslin frighten you…she hates _everyone,_ but especially me.”

 

Myrcella clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her giggle and pulled out a seat, opening her notebook. 

 

_Two out of three, not bad._

 

***

 

Robb had been stuck in meetings all morning and they had run right through lunch. Nothing made him grouchier than excessive talking and not eating. His mother claimed he was still a growing boy but at twenty three he knew he couldn’t blame it on that.

 

He came out of the conference room and saw his assistant Roslin on her facebook page, so he cleared his throat. 

 

She hopped up so quick it was as though she’d been scalded, “Mr. Stark! Have your meetings finished? Would you like me to get you some lunch?”

 

“No Roslin, thank you,” he said as kindly as he could. _I’d like you to not spend company time on social media._ “I’d like to meet my new intern and then I’ll be stepping out for lunch with Mr. Snow.”

 

He’d been traveling yesterday, and had only gotten back to the office at 4. He hadn’t wanted his intern to start on a day he wasn’t there, yet today clearly hadn’t been any better.

 

“Oh, well, um… she,” Roslin starts and nervously stands up, “She, stepped out for lunch as well. I didn’t know what time you’d be done and we’re required by law to give them an hour and -“ 

 

Robb is about to cut her off when he sees a group walk back into the office. There are three boys surrounding one girl. These were not the same boys he’d met yesterday, who were like sulky roommates on edge with one another. These boys were laughing with each other, as the girl told them something. 

 

He knew he had seen her somewhere. It wouldn’t be strange if they had bumped into one another at some function or other, but he couldn’t place her. Surprising, because hers was not a face you’d soon forget. 

 

He knew her Uncles, he’d interned on Dragonstone with her Uncle Stannis, and with Renley running the Northern division of Fury Corp. they ran into one another frequently. But this girl was no Baratheon, at least not in looks. While her Uncles had dark brown hair and stocky builds she was golden haired and slim, looking more model than intern. _Not that that matters._

 

He strode over to them, his legs carrying him before he’d consciously made the decision to go. 

 

The boys all straightened up as he approached and the girl, being the last to see him, turned with a vibrant grin still on her face. 

 

“Hello, all, I’m Robb Stark,” he said formally. 

 

“Hello Mr. Stark,” they all said in unison and he felt like a fourth grade teacher. 

 

“I assume you are Myrcella Baratheon,” he teased, and cringed at his lame joke. 

 

The girl kept the smile on her face though, and stepped forward holding out her hand, “I am Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

 

Her handshake was firm, though her hand felt small in his and he smiled at her in return, “We’re happy to have you,” then he stepped back and cleared his throat, “All of you. I hope you’ll enjoy your summer at Stark Industries and look forward to working with each one of you.”

 

“I on the other hand, am really only here for Podrick,” Jon said, naming the intern assigned to him, as he came up behind him, clamping his hands on Robb’s shoulders.

 

The boy who must be Podrick blushed, and Myrcella covered her mouth to hide a giggle. 

 

“Now if you lot will excuse us, I have to get Mr. Stark here some lunch before he eats the least productive intern…,” Jon said, nearly dragging him away. 

 

Robb follows him out, and as they are about to turn the hall he looks back at the pit to find Myrcella explaining something to one of the boys on her laptop. 

 

“Well, Mr. Stark, I’d say you are _fucked,_ ” Jon said with a grin as they made their way downstairs. 

 

“What? With the Boltons? There’s no way we’ll give them what they want, it was just a first meeting,” Robb said.

 

Jon grins, “Sometimes you can tell a lot from a first meeting.”

 

***

 

All in all, it wasn’t a bad first day. She had already made friends with half the guys in IT when her login wasn’t working, and after a group lunch, even Harry was growing on her. She’d only gotten two snide comments from Roslin (Willem had gotten five) and had managed to deliver a message to Mr. Cassel in a meeting without making a fool of herself. 

 

She checked her watch, an heirloom from her maternal grandmother, and saw that it was half past six. She had plans to meet her Uncle Renley for dinner at seven, and while most people had left, she had wanted to finish the work she’d not gotten to due to her IT issues. 

 

Closing out of the spreadsheet she’d been in, she gets up from the table. Roslin had left an hour earlier, on the arm of some man from Legal, and Myrcella had to walk by Mr. Stark’s office to get to the exit. 

 

She figured it would be rude not to, so she poked her head in, “Mr. Stark? I’m so sorry to bother you, but I was going to head out for the day, unless you need anything further?”

 

He glances up from his papers, his blue eyes look a bit tired, but not unkind, and then turns apologetic, “I’m sorry but…could I trouble you for some copies before you go? I’d do them but my card never works in the machine.” 

 

She smiled, he was in the second highest role at the company and he couldn’t get his card to work on the copy machine. _How adorable_ she thought before she could help it and then internally flagellated herself for her stupidity.

 

“Of course, how many do you need?,” she asked, setting her bag down on Roslin’s desk. 

 

“Five of these and ten of these, please,” he said and she stepped forward to take the pages from him. 

 

She went to the hall to make the copies and was surprised to hear his voice behind her. 

 

“I uh… hope I’m not keeping you from something?,” he says.

 

“Oh, no, I’m just meeting my uncle for dinner,” she says with a smile, handing him the pages and signing out of the machine. “He’ll be thrilled if I’m a few minutes late because _I was needed at the office_ ,” she says conspiratorially. 

 

He let’s out a chuckle, a deep Northern chuckle that warms her insides, “I hear you. The first time I missed family dinner because I was working was the proudest I’ve ever seen my father.” 

 

She smiled and walked back with him to retrieve her bag. He looked older than twenty-three, perhaps it was the weight of responsibilities on him, but he looked more man than boy. _A very handsome man._

 

“Well goodnight Mr. Stark,” she said with a smile. 

 

“Goodnight Myrcella,” he said with one of his own.

 

She was waiting for the elevator and the doors open to reveal the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen. The girl’s mouth popped open when she saw her and Myrcella offered her a small polite smile. 

 

The doors closed to the sound of the girl calling for Mr. Stark as though he was hers to command. 

 

***

 

Robb rubbed his eyes. It was just past six thirty but he’d been on conference calls since six and up running with Grey Wind before that. 

 

He’d popped his head out looking for Roslin but of course she was gone for the day, despite the fact that she was supposed to check in with him before she left. 

 

Just then, the golden haired Myrcella pops her head in, politely asking him he needs anything. He feels like such an idiot, not being able to work the copier. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d asked IT to look into it. 

 

She’d smiled at him, but he was afraid she’d think he thought it was beneath him or something, so without really thinking he’d followed her out there. 

 

He wondered if his father had met her for an interview, or if he’d simply hired her on her family name. They didn’t have a lot of women in his part of the office, something Arya never failed to point out (though she’d never taken his father up on an internship) and so he couldn’t help but compare her to Roslin. 

 

His assistant had been thrust on him as part of a deal they’d made last year, and at first the girl had seemed competent, but now she’d turned lazy, and had a bad habit of being rude to the interns. She dressed inappropriately for work as well, something he knew his father bristled at. Myrcella on the other hand, in her navy blue shift dress and sweater and nude heels, her golden hair pulled off her face in a loose half-up style, was the definition of professional. 

 

He felt guilty asking this of her, and he knew that as a beautiful, twenty year old, heiress on her own in the city she probably had some function to change for. 

 

“I uh… hope I’m not keeping you from something?,” he says. _Perhaps a date with some mining heir?_

 

“Oh, no, I’m just meeting my uncle for dinner,” she says with a reassuring smile, handing him the pages and signing out of the machine. _She makes it look so easy._ “He’ll be thrilled if I’m a few minutes late because _I was needed at the office_ ,” she says with a roll of her eyes. 

 

He can’t help but chuckle, it was so close to his own experience. They say their goodnights and as he raises the papers to put them into a folder, he smells a hint of jasmine. 

 

He is trying to focus back on his work when he hears a commanding voice from down the hall, “Robb Stark!”

 

_Fuck._

 

He jumps up from his desk and grabs his briefcase, “Dove I am so sorry!” 

 

“You were meant to meet me a half hour ago!,” his sister says indignantly, “Mr. Baelish was there,” she says with a shudder. 

 

Robb’s stomach turns sour, “Sans, I’m so sorry… I totally forgot and had to get these things ready for tomorrow’s meeting. Did he do anything to you?,” he asks rushing forward to survey his sister. 

 

“No he just… breathed near me,” she says with annoyance before her lips twitch and she breaks into a smile. 

 

He grins at her, “Come on, I’ll take you to dinner.” 

 

“Ooh let’s go to Le Cou, they have this lemon curd tart I’ve been _dreaming_ about,” she says, grabbing his arm. 

 

“Whatever you want, Dove,” he says, determined to make it up to her. 

 

They stepped outside, into the still light summer sky and Sansa says, “You didn’t tell me _Myrcella Baratheon_ was working for you.”

 

Robb feels caught out for some reason, “I didn’t realise you knew her.”

 

Sansa looks at him like he is the simplest person alive, “ _Myrcella Baratheon,_ she’s famous…”

 

“What? She’s your age,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

 

“Yes and she’s an heiress of Fury Corp. and Lannister Capital and is on like every best dressed list that’s ever existed,” Sansa explained. 

 

 _Ah of course, she’s fashion famous_ , Robb thought. Sansa was studying at Highgarden Design School and was a gifted designer. She’d made him a custom tuxedo for his twenty first birthday and it was his favourite thing he owned. 

 

“I wonder who she’s wearing to the City Ball…,” Sansa mused allowed. 

 

Robb just tried not to think of Myrcella Baratheon in a gown. 


	3. Green Tea Fridays

Myrcella walked into the office on Friday morning at 8:45 AM with a spring in her step. It was the end of her second week at Stark Industries and she’d have to say it had been a successful one. 

 

“Here you are, Nan, green tea, right?” she said, handing the receptionist the green tea from her hand. She held a cupholder with four cups in it in her other hand for her and the boys. 

 

“Thank you, sweetling,” Nan said almost nervously setting it down. 

 

For a moment Myrcella was worried she’d gotten Nan’s drink of choice wrong, but just then her boss, Robb Stark came in and handed Nan a travel cup.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Nan said warmly and Robb looked between them as the women shifted nervously. 

 

“What did I miss?” Mr. Stark asks them conspiratorially. 

 

“Nothing, dear,” Nan says, “It’s just the lovely Miss Baratheon also got me a green tea this morning.”

 

“Did she?,” Mr. Stark asked with a smile. “Doesn’t she know that tea on Friday mornings are our thing?”

 

_Don’t think about how sweet that is, DO NOT THINK ABOUT HOW SWEET THAT IS._

 

“I knew I forgot to read the mission statement…” Myrcella jokes and Nan giggles, making her sound much younger.

 

“Well Nan, you deserve two teas, enjoy your day. Miss Baratheon? After you,” he said as he held open the door for the elevator. 

 

“Most people don’t pay her much attention,” Mr. Stark said as the elevator doors closed.

 

“She’s been very kind to me,” Myrcella said by way of explanation, smiling at him in thanks as he held the door open for her once they got to the Executive floor. 

 

“And to me,” he agreed. 

 

“I um… won’t infringe on your green tea Fridays again,” she said with a small smile. 

 

He looked at her with a bemused smile. Then he said, “Well…what’s your Friday drink order?”

 

“Same as every day, vanilla latte,” she said. 

 

“That’s all my sister drinks too, don’t know how you stomach the stuff…anyhow, don’t bother next Friday, okay?,” he asked her. 

 

_Calm down, he’s just giving you the same treatment he gives a 90 year old woman._

 

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark,” she said.

 

“Enjoy the pit,” he said with a grin before heading to his office. 

 

“Ella?,” Podrick asked her, bringing her out of her daze, “Is that iced coffee for me?” 

 

She turned to the boys who were all looking at her eagerly. They’d all fallen in together much easier than she’d expected, and even Harry was peering at her to see what she’d brought for them.

 

“It certainly is,” she said, plopping down the tray, and pulled out a bag of muffins to set on the table, “Happy Friday boys.”

 

***

 

It had been a tense day so far, even after the rather nice start. Meetings had not gone as he’d hoped and Roslin had failed to pull together some reports for him and he’d snapped at her. He didn’t like reprimanding his employees, even when they deserved it, and he knew the girl had nearly cried. 

 

However, that didn’t excuse her behaviour when he he heard her, clear across the office shouting at Myrcella. 

 

Robb came out of his office, as Jon came out of his, to find Myrcella standing there with a dry cleaning bag in her hand, hanging it over her chair as she picked up a pad and paper.

 

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?” Roslin exclaimed at her. 

 

“I was on my lunch break, I’m sorry, did I not complete something before I left?” Myrcella asked as quietly as she could, but the whole office was looking now. 

 

He had to hand it to her, she didn’t cower. 

 

“YOUR DRY CLEANING DOESN’T LOOK LIKE YOUR _LUNCH_ PRINCESS. NOW I KNOW IT MUST BE TERRIBLY BENEATH YOU TO-“ Roslin started. 

 

“Miss Baratheon?,” Jon interjected, before Roslin could finish. 

 

“Yes, Mr. Snow?,” Myrcella asked.

 

“Roslin’s quite busy with her work, perhaps I could go over some projects for this afternoon?,” Jon asked and Robb wanted to kiss him.

 

He wished he would have been the one to interject, no one deserved to be humiliated in front of the office, least of all Myrcella who had already proven herself to be highly capable and professional, and above all, kind. But only an hour earlier he’d spoken to Roslin more harshly than he normally should have and would have felt hypocritical.

 

“Of course, Mr. Snow, excuse me, Ms. Frey,” Myrcella said and studiously avoided the gazes of everyone in the office, holding her head high as she walked into Jon’s office. 

 

Jon nodded at him before closing his door and Robb sighed. 

 

“Podrick, can you come in here, please?,” Robb asked, to justify his standing out there. 

 

The boy ambled over, nearly tripping over his own feet, and Robb wondered what sort of task he’d have to dream up for him.

 

***

 

Mr. Snow didn’t say anything for a moment after he shut the door. He looked her in the eye and nodded and she let out one calm steadying breath. She was rarely daunted, and she certainly wasn’t going to let Roslin Frey of all people do it, but still, being yelled at in your place of work was not an enjoyable way to spend a Friday afternoon.

 

“First of all, I want to say you handled that very well,” Mr. Snow said as he gestured for her to sit. 

 

His office was different than Mr. Stark’s. They were of similar size, but Mr. Snow had a small seating area whereas Mr. Stark had an extra work table. 

 

“Thank you, Mr. Snow,” she said, hoping to get off the topic as soon as possible.

 

“You can call me Jon,” he said with a kind smile, “I was in your position only a few years ago, at your seat to be exact. It doesn’t feel quite right having you address me as Mr. Snow.”

 

She smiled, there was a steadiness to him that filled her with instant calm, and by all accounts he was a great guy. She’d seen it herself in the little time she’d been working around him. 

 

“So, things went a little haywire while you were out, and by the way, you can literally do anything you want on your lunch break…except drink I guess… but really, I mean… run errands, take a language course, we don’t care. Legally, we _can’t_ care. But anyway… there were some digests that were supposed to have been done on some competitors, namely Bracken Ltd. and Bear Co.. Could you do a bit of research and and pull something together? We don’t have a lot of time, so it’s alright if it’s rough, we just need some basic facts like -“ 

 

She thought back to when she’d been told about the internship her father had secured for her. She’d known about Stark Industries, you couldn’t live in Westoros and _not_ know about Stark Industries, but she’d wanted to learn more and in doing so, had looked into their competitors as well. 

 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I think I may already have what you need? I did a bit of research prior to starting here. Should I email you what I have and we can go from there?,” she asked.

 

He grins at her, “I’ll deny ever saying this, but no wonder Roslin doesn’t like you. That’d be great, thanks.” 

 

“Right away, Jon,” she said with a smile and walked out of his office.

 

It only took her a moment to locate the files on her phone and she emailed him. 

 

Five minutes later, he walked out of his office, and standing near Roslin’s desk shouted at her, “That is EXACTLY what we needed, Myrcella, THANK YOU!”

 

She had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing, and managed a, “You’re welcome, Jon.”

 

“Come along, I’ve got some projects that need your expertise, bring Umber with you.”

 

***

 

Somehow the afternoon had been saved, thanks in large part to the four summer interns. They had a camaraderie most sessions lacked and because they weren’t so busy trying one-up each other, they worked together seamlessly, none of them balking at the lowest task on the totem pole. 

 

He’d seen Harry Hardyng of all people offer to make copies so that Podrick could pull the presentation together, while Willem offered to help arrange the boardroom and Myrcella, or ‘eagle eye’ as Rodrick called her, proofread. 

 

She’d come into his office, none of them were knocking this afternoon, everyone was rushing too much to waste time on pointless courtesies. 

 

“I’ve only found a few errors, Mr. Stark, is this in a file I can access?,” she asked. 

 

“Uh…no… here come sit, sit,” he said, stepping away from his desk as he was just studying the index cards she’d prepared for him. 

 

She sits down and starts typing. Her fingers moved almost impossibly quickly over the keyboard and he had to force himself to focus back on the cards in front of him.

 

“Is this right? 500?,” he asks her, pointing to one of the cards. 

 

“Yes,” she answers as she continues to type, “Crazy right?”

 

He sighs and shakes his head.

 

“Done,” she says, getting up. “Is there anything else I can do in advance of the presentation?”

 

“Um…no… thank you,” he says. She stands up and offers him a smile, “But Myrcella, I hope you know how much we value you and the other interns here… what happened today with Roslin was my fault. She shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

 

“That’s kind of you to say, Mr. Stark,” Myrcella said, never once permitting that what had happened with Roslin was inappropriate. _A class act_ his mother would have called her, “Good luck this afternoon.”


	4. The Right Question

Myrcella woke up in her family’s townhouse in Wintertown on Saturday morning with a delightful ache in her bones. 

 

The day before had been the first day she’d really felt a part of Stark Industries. It had been stressful and chaotic and utterly satisfying. 

 

She’d finally made it out at 7, just enough time to change into her gown (the ill-fated dry cleaning bag) for the Yunkai Relief Benefit she’d attended.

 

This was her second real weekend in the city and she was looking forward to exploring. Her Uncle Renley and his family were the only family she had here so she thankfully had no obligations to speak of. It felt luxurious. 

 

She made some coffee and took it up to the roof garden, wrapping her bathrobe tighter around herself as she skimmed through her emails. 

 

She was looking up a bookstore she wanted to visit when a call came in. 

 

“Hello? This is Myrcella,” she said, as she didn’t recognise the number. 

 

“Obviously it’s you, why else would I call?,” the nasally voice of Roslin Frey cut in. 

 

“Roslin, good morning,” Myrcella said as she dug her nails into her palms. She would put up with this girl’s attitude Monday through Friday, but she drew the line at Saturday morning coffee. 

 

“I need you to go to the office and print & bind five copies of the Tarly proposal. You can then drop them off at the residences of Mr. Snow, Mr. Cassel, both Mr. Starks and Mr. Theon Greyjoy,” Roslin said. 

 

_Theon Greyjoy? Isn’t he a Junior Partner at Bolton Reserve?_

 

“When do they need these by?,” she asked, as she rose from her seat.

 

“By noon, won’t be a problem, will it?,” Roslin asked and hung up before she got her answer.

 

 _So much for exploring,_ Myrcella thought as she downed the rest of her coffee and ran to go shower. 

 

A half hour later she was on her way to the office, dressed in a light blue wrap dress, having made use of the SUV her father kept up here.

 

She’d tried calling Roslin three times to confirm that Theon Greyjoy should in fact receive a copy but the girl had not picked up a single call.

 

Locating the files and addresses was easy enough, though operating the binding machine was another matter. Thankfully she’d managed not to spill any blood on the paper and at 10:45 she was out the door and on the way to her first delivery. 

 

Her Grandfather had always told her that you deliver to the most Senior member first, so she followed her GPS to the elder Mr. Stark’s residence, the furthest away as it was outside the city. She figured she could always ask Jon to confirm about Theon, he was the boss she felt most comfortable with and he never treated questions like inconveniences, not that Robb did either. 

 

She got to a small clearing off the main road and the GPS told her to turn left. 

 

 _This is how all scary movies start…_ she thought as she turned her way down the unmarked drive. 

 

Any fear she had was abated as she got through the clearing though. The woods made way to an expansive estate, with a large medieval structure on the top of a hill. She followed the drive, having to stop twice, once for horses and the other for a group of ducklings with their mother and wondered what sort of dreamland she’d been transported to. 

 

As she got into the main drive she parked off to the side and pulled out one of the bound copies. She rang the doorbell, hoping that a member of the staff would answer it and she could be on her way. She had never officially met Mr. Stark and would prefer to do so when she wasn’t so rushed.

 

However, what greeted her was a very surprised and very shirtless Robb Stark.

 

***

 

“I mean _seriously_ just look at this!,” Sansa said as he grabbed a mug for coffee. 

 

He’d decided to come home for the weekend, he and his father were taking Rickon and Bran hunting tomorrow and he’d needed a weekend in the country to relax. He and his dog, a mutt that was part wolf, Grey Wind had just gotten back from a run and he felt better already.

 

“Look at what?,” he asked as he plopped down next to his sister. 

 

“ _This dress_ , seriously Robb, what does she wear to the office?,” Sansa said and thrust her laptop in front of him.

 

She’d pulled it up to some fashion blog she followed, and the central picture was of a stunning blonde in a complicated yet feminine pale blue chiffon gown. _Myrcella Baratheon_. 

 

“I don’t know, Sans, she wears clothes. She’s an intern,” he said. In truth he had no memory of what she wore to the office, though he could tell you how many freckles were on her left cheek. _Three._

 

“Okay but… do you think you could introduce me? I mean… she’s your intern after all so maybe she could like, do it as a favour? She could just let me make something for her and if she likes it maybe she could mention it and -,” his usually dignified sister begging made him uncomfortable.

 

“Sansa, you are invited to every party in town. You’re one of the most beautiful girls in the country, why don’t you wear your own designs?,” he asked her.

 

“Because that’s pathetic, Robbert, I need someone _else_ to do it and -“ she started but the doorbell cut her off. _Thanks be to the gods._

 

He got up to answer the door as his mother was passing.

 

“Robb Stark, you cannot answer the door in a shirt covered in sweat and filth!,” she exclaimed. 

 

He gave her a roguish grin and pulled of the shirt, “You got it mom.”

 

Before she could yell at him he opened the door, and there, in all her three-freckles-on-her-left-cheek perfection was Myrcella Baratheon.

 

“Mr. Stark! She didn’t tell me you’d be here too, if you’ll just hold on a moment I’ll go grab another one from the car,” she said and he had to follow her out of the house as she’d turned around so quickly. 

 

He yanked the shirt back on, “Myrcella? Wait…who didn’t? What are you getting?”

 

“The Tarly proposal,” she said over her shoulder. She opened the trunk of a car that was far too large for her and pulled out a bound proposal. “Here you are,” she said handing them to him, “Would you mind giving your father his as well? I want to make sure I get these to everyone before noon. Oh, and I don’t mean to be a nuisance, but would you mind clarifying something for me?”

 

_Um…sure if you’ll clarify why you are here with a proposal that isn’t near completion on a Saturday._

 

“Uhohkay,” he said instead. _Smooth._

 

She gave him a bemused smile and said, “Well it’s just… I was told to deliver a copy to Theon Greyjoy, and I know that he’s a former employee but wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest, given that he is now at Bolton Reserve who you’re also in negotiations with? Did she perhaps mean Timothy Greatjon? I might have misheard over the phone.”

 

_Fucking. Roslin._

 

“Have you been anywhere else this morning?,” he asked her, _first things first._

 

“No, your father was my first stop,” she said, glancing at her watch, clearly petrified she wasn’t going to make whatever asinine deadline had been given to her. 

 

“Good, can you come with me for a moment?,” he asked her, grabbing the other proposals out of the trunk. She started to protest and he assured her, “You won’t be in any trouble regarding the deadline.”

 

She nodded and he took her back through the house. His sister and mother gave him inquisitive stares but he shook his head. He knocked on his father’s study and walked in after receiving his father’s gruff response.

 

“Myrcella,” he said, as his father rose out of his chair, always the gentleman. “Can you kindly tell my father why you are here?”

 

“To deliver the Tarly proposal,” she said, and there was confusion in her eyes she was trying to hide. 

 

“And who told you to do that?,” he asked her. 

 

“Roslin Frey,” she said matter-of-factly. 

 

His father sat down and rubbed his eyes. He knew where this was heading.

 

“And who else did she tell you to deliver this to?,” he asked, the final nail in the coffin. 

 

“The two of you, Mr. Snow, Mr. Cassel and Mr. Theon Greyjoy,” she said, and to her credit her eyes remained forward.

 

“Do you _realise_ what she could have cost us?,” he asked his father.

 

***

 

_And I’m going to be fired. Stupid, stupid, STUPID._

 

She stood as the two Stark men appraised one another. Couldn’t one of them just _do_ it already? She’d clearly screwed up, she should have confirmed with Roslin on the phone, and now she’d screwed up the perfect internship, the perfect thing to have on her resume. _Mother is going to be thrilled._

 

“You have to let me fire her now,” Robb said.

 

_Okay, ouch, I didn’t realise this is something he’s wanted, I thought we had a good repore._

 

“Her father has killed for less,” his father muttered.

 

_Those charges were dropped._

 

“She’s malicious!,” Robb exclaimed.

 

_Okay, that’s enough._

 

“Sirs, with all due respect, I am incredibly sorry for my mistake, I should have clarified with Ms. Frey, but it’s important to me that you know that I would never do anything to intentionally harm your company,” she said. The two men turned, as though they’d forgotten she was in the room and blinked at her, “And… well I understand if you’d like to fire me, but -“

 

“Why would we fire you, dear?,” the senior Mr. Stark asked.

 

_Um…_

 

“Myrcella, I’m not firing you. I’m firing Roslin,” Robb said, _Oh._ “She, well you’ve been the victim of a cruel prank. One that indeed could have gotten you fired, but could have lost us our company. Had Theon been given a copy of that report it would have been collusion at best. Roslin was either too stupid to know that or knew it and didn’t care so long as you ended up being blamed, I’m sorry that she did this to you, but I am very grateful that you had the good sense to ask before delivering any of the others,” he finished with a sigh, pressing the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

 

_That bitch. Collusion? She could have made me a white-collar criminal! Is she the dumbest person alive, has she never heard of the Reynes?_

 

There was nothing to say, she had narrowly avoided losing her job, losing them their company and all of them losing their reputations so she did the only thing she could. She started to laugh. 

 

***

 

_They’ve gone insane. I’m standing here, watching two people go insane in real-time._

 

He was white with rage the moment he’d figured out Roslin’s plan. He knew she’d had it out for Myrcella since she’d started a couple weeks prior, she’d made it her mission to give her tasks that would keep Myrcella there until all hours, had sent Myrcella into a closed door meeting with the lawyers to deliver take-out. Myrcella had taken it all in stride, and while he imagined she was too smart to not realise what was going on, she had never complained. 

 

It wasn’t as though Myrcella was the only one who got it. Roslin detested Willem Umber and had actually made the boy cry the other day. She mistreated all of the interns, something that he, and Jon, and HR had all spoken to her about. But there was something about Myrcella that brought out a particular form of cruelty.

 

Perhaps it was the weeks of torture, mixed with the relief at not losing her job, that had made the unflappable Myrcella Baratheon break down in laughter. 

 

What he hadn’t expected was his father to join her, but here they were, two strangers (they’d only met in passing as his father had been traveling for the better part of the summer), with tears running down their faces they were laughing so hard. 

 

“Sit, sit, Myrcella,” his father said, stepping forward and gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

 

Myrcella collected herself and took a seat. 

 

“I’ve been meaning to introduce myself, I’m sorry that I haven’t. I hope that other than the antics of Ms. Frey, which I’ve been told you’ve handled incredibly gracefully, no one at the company has done anything to make you feel unwelcome?,” he asks her, and there is a touch of how he speaks to Arya and Sansa in his voice. His father, for all his gruffness, was a Northern fool when it came to girls. 

 

“Yes, Mr. Stark, everyone has been incredibly welcoming and it’s been a wonderful experience so far. I… had been hoping to meet you as well, my father speaks very highly of you,” she said.

 

His father grinned, “Bullshit - he called me a tight-ass didn’t he?”

 

She bit her lip and glanced up at Robb. He grinned and took a seat next to her and nodded.

 

“I believe his exact words were: He’s got an ice-pick up his ass but he’s the best man I know,” she said and now it was Robb that threw his head back and laughed. It was the best description of his father he’d ever heard. 

 

“Well, Myrcella, now that you don’t have this asinine errand to run, can I convince you to join my family for lunch?,” his father asked.

 

“I’d be delighted,” she said demurely. 

 

***

 

Mr. Stark had introduced her to his wife Catelyn, who she’d liked on sight. She’d given her a tour of the gardens and had spoken fondly of both the flowers and her children. As they made their way back up to the house Mrs. Stark lead her to a shaded terrace where the Stark brood stood waited for them.

 

“Children, this is Myrcella Baratheon, she is an intern at your father’s company so please be on your best behavior,” she said sternly but given the smiles on his children’s faces, Myrcella suspected she was all bark and no bite. 

 

“Myrcella, dear, I have a place for you here,” Mr. Stark said, gesturing the place next to Robb. 

 

He’d cleaned up, but was still much more casual than he was in the office, wearing a white and blue striped button-down and khakis. His hair was still wet from the shower and as she sat next to him she could smell his peppermint soap and it made her stomach do a little flip flop. 

 

Everyone else filed in and as they were all sitting, the beautiful redhead she’d seen come to the office flitted out in a one-of-a-kind pale pink sundress. 

 

“You must be Myrcella!,” she said brightly as she took the open seat next to her.

 

“I am - and I’m so sorry to be rude, but is that by _Little Dove?,_ ” she asked. 

 

 _By god it’s even more exquisite up close,_ she thought as she tried not to creep her out by looking too closely at the stitching. 

 

“Y-yes it is!,” the girl exclaimed.

 

“I’m so jealous - the one store that carried it back in King’s Landing didn’t have my size and -“ she stopped when all the Starks were staring at her. “I’m sorry, you all don’t need to hear this!”

 

“Actually we do,” Mrs. Stark said, “You’d been looking for that dress?”

 

She blushed, _they are going to think I am a total airhead._ “I was, it’s by this wonderful up and coming designer, but the store in King’s Landing only carries one of each of her pieces… anyway, it’s nice to meet you -?”

 

“Sansa…,” the girl replies shyly.

 

She jumps when Robb says in her ear, “The designer,” and she turns to see all the Starks grinning from ear to ear.

 

***

 

Myrcella had disappeared after lunch, Sansa had taken her by the hand and dragged her up to her bedroom. It had been hours. He was happy for Sansa but he needed to speak with Myrcella before leaving so he knocked on her door. 

 

“Come in…” Sansa sing-songed. _Oh dove, I haven’t heard you this happy in months._

 

She and Myrcella were laying on her canopied bed on their stomachs, with one of Sansa’s sketchbooks in between them. They were also both wearing gowns. 

 

Myrcella stood when he came in, with a blush, and she looked breathtaking in one of Sansa’s new designs. 

 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” he said, “But I’m going to have to get back to the city tonight and I was hoping to speak with you before my taxi arrives.”

 

“I should be going as well, would you like a ride?,” Myrcella asked.

 

“Oh, that’d be great thanks,” he said and then he just stood there. Like an idiot.

 

“Um, Robb?,” Sansa asked. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“She isn’t going to change with you in here…,” his sister said with a teasing grin.

 

“Oh! Of course, right um - I’ll just be downstairs. Oh but, Myrcella? I have my dog Grey Wind with me, do you mind him coming along?”

 

“Not at all,” she said with a smile, “I’ll just be a minute.”

 

He closed the door to them giggling, probably at his expense but how could he blame them? 

 

He went downstairs to say goodbye and to apologise to his brothers for having to miss the hunting trip tomorrow. Myrcella came down moments later, with an overflowing shopping bag with the _Little Dove_ logo on it.

 

“Goodbye gentlemen,” Myrcella said with a smile.

 

“ _Bye_ …” his brothers chorused dreamily. It was safe to say she’d charmed his family at lunch.

 

Robb stepped forward to take the bag from her and after saying their goodbyes and her thank yous to his parents they hopped in her car. 

 

Grey Wind got in the back but immediately stuck his head in between their seats.

 

“Hello, you handsome fellow,” Myrcella said as she pulled out of the driveway. 

 

“Grey Wind, let her drive,” he said, trying to hold him back from stepping into her lap. He shut off the GPS she had programmed, “I’ll make sure we get there.”

 

She looked at him appraisingly, “Alright Mr. Stark, I’m putting my trust in you.”

 

_Oh you shouldn’t do that, because I don’t trust myself with you at all._

 

Once she’d had eased onto the highway, Robb cleared his throat. 

 

"So, the reason I wanted to speak with you," he began, and she inclined her head slightly in recognition that he was speaking without taking her eyes off the road. "Is because I will be firing Roslin today. Given our hiring requirements as well as the sheer volume of work we have this summer, I don't think we will be able to find a suitable replacement who would be able to begin in advance of the fall. Given this, and given your familiarity with my ongoing projects, the team, as well as your high um... work performance, I was wondering if you might step into her role for the duration of your internship?"

 

He tried to ignore the blush that rose in her cheeks, but he couldn't ignore the dimple that appeared in her smile, "Are you sure you'd like me to? I mean, there are temps in the office who have been there longer than I have..."

 

"I am, they won't have your knowledge of our projects," he said. _Plus I don't trust any of them representing me to our clients. "_ I know that it may seem like it will be more of a commitment than your current role, but you were already working longer hours than Roslin anyway, and I actually think us being in direct contact will streamline things, and quite frankly I never chose Roslin, she was thrust on me and I trust you. Please?"

 

He knew he sounded pathetic. He shouldn't have to pitch someone on the role, but he knew she had a corner office at both her family's companies the day she graduated if she wanted them. She was no normal twenty year old. He needed her more than she needed him. 

 

"Of course, Mr. Stark, thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down,” she said with excitement in her voice. 

 

"You should probably start calling me Robb...," he said. 

 

"If you'd prefer," she says with a smile, "Robb." 

 

She turns briefly to glance at him and he nods at her.

 

When her eyes are back on the road he is free to freak out about the lurch in his heart he'd felt at her saying his name.

 


	5. Stupid, Truthful Things

Myrcella walked into the office at a quarter to nine on Monday morning holding two cups of coffee. Robb always went to the gym next door and never seemed to have time to pick-up coffee before the Executive meeting. 

 

It was her first day acting as his assistant and she'd wanted to get in a few minutes early to login to her computer. She'd been on the phone with IT all of yesterday and they'd assured her it would be set up but she had learned not to take that at face value.

 

She put her things down gently at her desk and walked into Robb's open office so that she could put his coffee down on his desk.

 

She did not expect to find him buttoning his dress shirt, but nevertheless, that is what she found.

 

"Mr. Stark! I'm so sorry - ," she said and turned around. She held out the coffee cup without turning around, "I uh... got you a coffee?"

 

"No I'm sorry Myrcella, um you can turn around now," he said and she did. To her amusement his cheeks were pink, "My um, extra dress shirt was in the closet here and... well anyway, I promise this will not be an ongoing occurance," _way to let a girl down on her first day_ , "Thank you, for the coffee, I never have time on Mondays."

 

"Of course...Robb," she tried out and he grinned, "I'm just going to get settled but do you need anything in advance of the Executive's meeting?"

 

"No I don't, thank you, but I'd like you to attend and take notes," he said and she nodded and left. 

 

The morning blew by in a breeze. After the meeting which she'd learned was really them catching up on their weekend's for the first twenty minutes and talking about the week's goals for the last ten, she'd accompanied Robb on an off-sight visit after she'd mentioned she knew Barristen Selmy through her grandfather. 

 

She was quickly learning why the press called him the Young Wolf. While he was the picture of etiquette he was a fierce negotiator. Barristen, who she'd always known in a social context, had looked to her in wonderment at the man he was dealing with. 

 

They exited the hotel Barristen owned as it was nearing one o'clock. 

 

"I'm sorry that went so long, he's a tough old beast isn't he?," Robb said with a grin. "I'll fetch us a taxi back to the office so you can have your much deserved lunch hour."

 

Her stomach grumbled in response and she blushed, "Oh um, actually I might meet you back there...there's a cafe down the street that has the best BLT in the city... and I might walk back, since its so nice. Unless you need me sooner and I can grab something quickly?"

 

"Oh, no no of course, um... not to impose but...," he said sheepishly.

 

She tugged him by the arm, "Just be prepared to _weep_  with gratitude when you try this thing..."

 

***

 

He knew by ten am that he'd made a mistake. He should never have asked Myrcella to take on the role. 

 

It wasn't that she was ill-equipped, quite the opposite. She'd shown more competance in a day than Roslin had shown in a year. It was just that she was so much _more_ than competant. 

 

She'd been a huge asset in his meeting with Barristen, who had bristled when he would suggest something only to nod kindly when she hesitantly explained the research. She'd caught five typos in a thoroughly proofed document (one of which had changed a million to a billion) and had successfully rearranged his schedule so that he'd be able to attend Arya's fencing competition on Thursday afternoon. 

 

That was all well and good. The problem was that she'd shown up to work looking like a day dream, had casually slipped in a mention of his favorite band on the taxi over to the meeting with Barristen, and had been the most charming lunch companion he'd had in ages. 

 

It had been manageable when she was his intern, when their interactions were limited and nearly always in groups. He'd been able to tell himself that it was okay that his heart started racing when he saw her. But it wasn't. 

 

She popped her head in at 6:30, “Would you like to go over your schedule for tomorrow?”

 

He cleared his throat, this was new, he had been lucky to get a goodbye from Roslin. “Uh sure, that would be great,” he said, gesturing to one of the seats in front of his desk. 

 

She smiled and sat down, handing him a copy of his schedule. 

 

“I moved your meeting with Mr. Cassel to tomorrow afternoon, because I thought you might need the numbers from the external report, which I’ve been told will arrive no later than 11. And the Times called to confirm the phone interview for 10:30, but otherwise, you are free. Though um, don’t tell anyone, because I ‘booked’ you in meetings from noon on so no one could pop something in,” she said with a grin. 

 

“Myrcella Baratheon!,” he said in mock horror, “You evil genius.”

 

She flipped her hair jokingly, but that didn’t stop the scent of jasmine from wafting over to him. He needed to get her out of here.

 

“Um, well that all sounds just…perfect, really. Thank you. Now um, don’t let me keep you a minute longer, I hope you have fun plans for this evening?,” he asked, standing up to gesture her out. _Please don’t say a date, please don’t say a date._

 

“Oh well I actually have plans with -“ 

 

“MYRCELLA BARATHEON, we have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!,” he heard Sansa’s voice shouting. 

 

Myrcella grinned and blushed, and they both peaked their heads out of the office. 

 

“Oh my god, look how professional you two look! Were you just going over spreadsheets and shhhedules?,” Arya asked. 

 

Both of his sisters were dressed for a night out - Sansa in a navy blue dress and Arya in wide leg trousers and sleeveless jumper.

 

“You know, this is your family’s company too, you might _pretend_ to have some decorum,” he told his little sisters. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, she’s off the clock you don’t have to pretend to be Mr. Boss Man,” Arya mocked him. 

 

“Yeah Wolf, come have a drink with your sissiessss,” Sansa said sweetly. 

 

_The sun and the moon._

 

Myrcella turned to look at him shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

 

He’d had a hard enough time keeping it professional over BLTs and lemonades, forcing himself to let her pay for her own, to not wipe the mayo off her lip, to move his foot when it had accidentally brushed up against hers. He wasn’t sure he could handle it over drinks. 

 

“Rain check, promise,” he said, “Myrcella’s booked me a full day tomorrow.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, but gave him a rueful smile and said, “Yes, he’s a very busy man girls,” turning away from him and joining his sisters, “First round is on me.”

 

***

 

A half hour later, Myrcella was seated at a rooftop bar at a table with Sansa and Arya. To be honest, she had needed a drink.

 

She’d had a great first day, too great. She’d love working so closely with Robb, attending meetings. He was such a great person to learn from and his way of doing business was so different from her family, and so similar to the way she thought she would want to conduct herself.

 

But she’d worked _so_ closely with him. She’d had to smell his aftershave and pretended like her heart didn’t leap out of her chest when his foot had grazed hers at lunch. 

 

It wasn’t just that he was good looking. Though dear gods had she really needed to see his abs again? _Yes._ He was quick-witted and moral and kind. He was _good,_ seemingly deeply so. After a lifetime of witnessing shiny objects masquerading as gold she’d learned the difference. Robb was a man of substance, and well, he really _was_ that good looking.. 

 

She was relieved when he had declined to come. Disappointed, but relieved. 

 

Arya was on her second drink while she and Sansa sipped their first and she thought she might be a little bit in love with both of them. They were so different, they could goad each other like no one else, but they got along so well and were a whirlwind to keep up with.

 

She got a text from Pod: _Ella, we missed you today - meet us a for a drink?_

 

“Hey, do you mind if the boys meet us here? They’re all really nice and Harry will buy all of our drinks,” she said to them.

 

“How can we say no to that?,” Sansa said with a grin. 

 

***

 

An hour later, Robb made it to the bar where Theon and Jon were on their second round. 

 

“Gentlemen,” he said, sitting in the open seat to Jon’s right and accepting the pint Tormund placed in front of him. 

 

“So he survived,” Theon said, “You owe me a hundred bucks.”

 

_At least they aren’t doing another slap bet._

 

“Did you really think Barristen would murder me?,” he asked as Jon reluctantly handed over the money. 

 

“Not Barristen,” Theon said with a grin, “The Lioness.”

 

“Wouldn’t she be a doe?” Robb asked with a roll of his eyes.

 

“Not with looks like that,” Theon said with a shake of her head, “Those Lannisters are proper cunts but gods be _good_ if they don’t make pretty women.”

 

Robb looked at Jon accusingly. His oldest friend threw up his hands, “Hey man, it’s not like I showed him a picture or anything. Roslin told him she’d been sacked and he met Myrcella at some benefit on Friday.”

 

“The _Yunkai Relief Benefit,”_ Theon said with a satisfied smile, “Seriously, nothing makes a girl more apt to shag on the first night then a $1,000 a plate meal to help some poor sod half a world away.”

 

“Almost makes you want to join the non-profit sector, hm Greyjoy?,” Jon said with a grin. 

 

“As if mate, you’ve got to get in for it to work,” Theon said, “And gods did it. Though your little lion has a bit of a silver spoon up her ass doesn’t she?”

 

“Watch it,” Robb nearly growled, surprising himself. 

 

Theon through his head back and cackled, slapping Jon on the chest, “What did I say mate? Fucking goner.” 

 

Robb took a sip of beer, avoiding Jon’s gaze. Theon could tease all he want, but Jon… Jon knew him better than anyone. He didn’t want to get into this conversation. 

 

“The girl is something special, Theon,” Jon said though, “Stay away from her.”

 

***

 

“Okay, okay, this evening I think, must end,” Myrcella said as she stood slowly. Her legs felt like jelly but she at least could open both of her eyes which was more than she could say for her companions. 

 

“Once more ‘round the park, madam!,” Arya exclaimed and then giggled as Willem through her over his shoulder. 

 

Needless to say, the Stark girls had bonded with the boys rather easily. One drink had turned to two and before she knew it, Harry had been steadily hitting on Sansa and Arya had challenged Pod to a contest. Myrcella wasn’t exactly sure what the rules of the contest were but they included four pints, a match, and the sigils of ancient houses. Pod had been assured his eyebrow would grow back. 

 

“Yeah, come on Ella, don’t be a spoil sport,” Harry said, throwing his arm around her and using this as a guise to throw his other around Sansa.

 

“Oh I won’t be a spoil sport,” she said, extracting herself, “But Mr. Cassel…he might have some opinions about you not _vomiting_ on him during the morning meeting.”

 

“Mr. Cassel? He is _such_ a pushover!,” Sansa said, hiccuping. 

 

Myrcella looked at Willem, who still had Arya over one shoulder, Pod, who was rather drunkenly trying to explain to his taxi driver where to meet him, and Harry who still had an arm draped over the beautiful girl next to him and started cackling. Rodrick Cassel was _many_ things, but a pushover was not one of them. 

 

She hadn’t laughed this much in months, and she too was sad to break the party up but she wouldn’t disappoint Robb on her second day. _What is he doing right now?_ She wondered. 

 

“Wolfy, can you come get us?,” Sansa said into her phone. Then she looked at Myrcella, “I um…I don’t know - Ella where are we?”

 

“Who are you talking to?,” Harry asked her, suddenly sobered. 

 

“Harold Hardyng, why I am talking to Wolf, aka, Robb, aka -“ Sansa said, but was interrupted by Pod yelling “SCATTER” and all of the boys ran off into the night. 

 

“Bloody cowards,” Arya said, though she slumped against Ella. 

 

“Okay but seriously, where are we Ella?” Sansa asked. 

 

Myrcella saw a taxi coming so she hailed it, and deposited both girls into it. She extracted the phone from Sansa, “Um, hi Robb.”

 

“Myrcella,” Robb said, and if she didn’t know better it sounded like he’d had a bit to drink himself. “Are my sisters alright?”

 

“Yes, they um, Arya get your foot out of my face! They are fine, I can bring them back to my house, they can just crash there,” she said. _It would be nice not be alone in that house._

 

 _“_ Text me the address, we’ll come grab ‘em,” he said though, and who was she to argue with her boss?

 

***

 

“Dude, this is…debatably _not_ a good idea,” Jon said as they exited the pub. 

 

“I actually don’t think there is much of a debate, it is _not_ a good idea, but uh… here we are?,” he said with a grin. They’d had a bit to drink…a bit more than a bit, but from the sound of his conversation with Sansa, _not_ as much as the girls. 

 

Myrcella had sounded a bit more put together, and he didn’t want her wrangling his sisters. Plus, he didn’t really like the idea of them being out and drunk not under his supervision. 

 

Jon just sighed and hailed a cab and within minutes they were in front of a double-wide townhouse in Winterfell’s poshest neighbourhood. Robb and Jon both lived just around the corner.

 

He rang the doorbell and Myrcella opened it. Her cheeks were a bit flushed but she looked otherwise like her normal, glorious self and he’d noted she was still in her dress from earlier and had only traded her stilettos for a pair of slippers. _Fuck that’s adorable_. 

 

“Robb, Jon!,” she said and her cheeks got even pinker, “Hi um, please come in. The girls are in the kitchen.”

 

He and Jon exchanged a look and followed her into her house. The first floor was open concept and elegantly decorated, and the smell of pancakes wafted over to them. 

 

“Jonathan _Snow_ ,” Sansa exclaimed as they walked in, “Do you even miss me?”

 

Robb looked at Jon who shifted uncomfortably, “Of course I do, I miss both of my Stark girls.”

 

Robb didn’t miss Sansa’s pout but Arya hurled herself into Jon’s arms and he planted a kiss to Sansa’s forehead. 

 

“You guys ready to go?,” he asked his sisters.

 

“No Ella’s making pancakes…” Arya said and stubbornly sat back down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. 

 

Ella looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry, it was the only way I could convince them not to go dancing… but um… I have more than enough?”

 

“Well, _Ella_ ,” Jon said, adopting the name his sisters used for her, as if to say _This is not work, this is something different entirely._ As if anyone needed to be told this was not a normal professional situation. “That sounds delightful.”

 

Jon it appeared, had overindulged as much as his sisters, and he plopped down in between them and attacked the bowl of fruit they’d been picking at. 

 

Myrcella giggled and turned back to the stove, flipping the pancakes. 

 

“Thanks for this… I swear we can be professional _some_ of the time,” he said as he went over to talk to her. It was like he didn’t have a choice, his feet carried him to her. 

 

She looked up at him and grinned, “You know, I was about to say the same thing to you…”

 

“Can I help with anything?,” he asked, half-praying she’d say no, only because he was a disaster in the kitchen. 

 

“Would you mind grabbing that platter up there?,” she asked. _That I can handle at least._

 

He grabbed the platter and placed it down next to her, “They smell great. Did you guys have fun tonight?”

 

“We did, I wish you had come with us…,” she said and then blushed, “I mean… it’s just your sisters speak so fondly of you.”

 

“That maybe wouldn’t have been so smart,” he said quietly. The noisy chatter of Jon and his sisters and the heat of the stove had created a little bubble around them, it made him say stupid, truthful things. 

 

Myrcella transferred some pancakes onto the platter and poured more batter into the pan, making it sizzle. 

 

“Even still,” she said quietly, then looked up at him tentatively under lowered lashes, “I wish you had come with us.”

 

“So do I."


	6. Sounds about right

“Myrcella can you come in here for a moment?,” Robb shouted to her from his office. 

 

She grabbed her pad of paper and her pen and went in, “Close the door, please,” he said. 

 

_Maybe he’s going to ravage me._

 

“She’s in here now, can you repeat that question,” Robb said into his speakerphone. 

 

“How many weeks will construction take and how many men will we need?,” the voice of Rodrick Cassel came over the line. 

 

“We’ll need twenty men, and they should need about six weeks,” she said, rattling off the figures she’d been pulling together for Robb for days. 

 

“What would we need to do it in four?,” he asked. 

 

She looked at Robb with a raised eyebrow and he nodded, “You can’t, sir, the city codes are quite specific regarding the hours that they can work. Even with extra men, I’ve been told that the electrical and plumbing would interfere with a condensed timeline.”

 

“And you spoke to -?,” Mr. Cassel asked. 

 

“A Mr. Thorne… he sounded quite sure,” she said diplomatically and had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling when Robb rolled his eyes at her. 

 

To say that Mr. Thorne had sounded sure was a vast understatement. He was a hard man with a rather, colorful, way of speaking about the city and the men he had at his disposal. 

 

“Ah I bet he did,” Mr. Cassel said with a chuckle, “Sour old beast. Thank you, dear. Listen uh - it’s Ginny’s birthday on Friday,” he said, naming his assistant, “I won’t be back before then, do you think you could take her to lunch? On me.”

 

“It’s all taken care of, Mr. Cassel, Sadie, Lynn and I are taking her out that afternoon and I’ve arranged for flowers delivered in your name. Lillies right?,” she asked, making a mental note to confirm with the florist. 

 

“That’s right - Stark treating you alright?,” he asked and she could hear the grin in his voice. Though Robb was technically his superior at the company, Robb had trained under him and he was his mentor. _Who quite frequently enjoys taking the piss out of him._

 

Robb gave her a curious look and she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. _Keep it professional, you idiot._

 

“He’s treating me very well, thank you sir. Enjoy Dorne!,” she said and he clicked off. 

 

“Thanks, I didn’t have the sheets in front of me and I knew _you_ would have them memorised,” he said with a raised eyebrow, as if he suspected her of staying home and pouring over summaries. Which she’d only done once. 

 

“Not at all, is there anything else I can do for you, Robb?,” she asked, standing up. 

 

***

 

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Robb?,” she asked, standing up. _Stay_ , he thought pathetically. 

 

The truth was he _had_ known the numbers. He just wanted to see her, and he wanted Rodrick to see what he and Jon raved about. Rodrick had spent the least amount of time with her, as he’d been traveling most of the summer, but as he was on the board  of a lot of foundations through the country, Robb knew it was important that when anyone asked how Myrcella Baratheon had been as an employee, his answer would be emphatic. 

 

She stood there with a small smile on her face. She was wearing her hair up in some complicated knot and wore slim black pants, a black top and a structured white boxy blazer. Her face was seemingly make-up free. She was spectacular. And looking at him like she was worried he’d gone insane.

 

“Uh…no, no that’s all. Are you going to head out soon? Arya mentioned she’d invited you…,” he said.

 

“Yes, actually I was just getting ready to - do you um…want to walk over together?,” she asked. 

 

They had long since developed a work/life separation. His sisters were obsessed with her, so he’d had to get used to her being around all the time. It didn’t help that the moment she was in his vicinity he ceased the ability to think about anything else, or that he had a sneaking suspicion she might feel the same way for him, but nevertheless they’d developed a friendship outside the office that he cherished.

 

“Sure, yes uhm…let’s go see if Jon’s ready?,” he asked. 

 

“I’ll just pop to the ladies, I’ll meet you two in the lobby?,” she asked with a shy smile. 

 

“Sounds good,” he said. 

 

He logged out of his computer, grabbed his wallet and cell and headed over to Jon’s office. 

 

“You ready?,” he asked him. 

 

“Yeah, just about - Ella coming?,” Jon said, hopping up and turning out his light. 

 

“She is,” he said with a sigh, “She’ll meet us downstairs.”

 

They got in the elevator, “It’s only another month,” Jon said, “Just, deal with it for another month.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Robb said. _Liar._

 

“Yes you do… you’re a ticking fucking time bomb, man and I get it. She’s…something else, just wait another month,” Jon said. 

 

Robb is about to retort _but then she’ll be gone_ , but the elevator doors open and Myrcella has taken off her blazer and put on red lipstick and he can’t speak. 

 

_Ticking fucking time bomb sounds about right._

 

***

 

Things had gotten rather awkward fairly quickly though the evening had begun well enough. 

 

Myrcella had arrived at the pub flanked on either side by Robb and Jon. The friendship she’d gained with her bosses was unlike any she’d had before, and while they all were completely professional at work, the moment they left she saw what they must have been like when they were interning. They had been friends for so long that an energy crackled between them that made you think that _anything_ were possible because you were with them, you were _safe._

 

Of course, she didn’t feel so safe when Jon went to greet Arya and left Robb and her to get the drinks. Not when the pub was bustling at happy hour and overeager customers squished her and Robb together. 

 

“We uh, should have taken you some place nicer,” Robb said to her with a grin, as he steadied her. 

 

“There _is_ no place nicer,” she said with one of her own, “Hi Tormund,” she greeted the bartender.

 

“Princess,” he greeted her with a bow, “Have you spoken to your mother today?” 

 

“Nope,” she said. 

 

“Gin Martini it is then,” he said, “Whiskey for you, Stark?”

 

Robb nodded and as Tormund went to make their drinks, Robb asked her, “What would he have gotten you if you had spoken to your mother?”

 

“A straightjacket,” Myrcella said and her stomach felt gooey from Robb’s chuckle. 

 

They had made their way over to join Arya and Jon and had settled in easily enough. But a half hour later, Sansa had shown up with Harry. 

 

The two had been casually dating for the last month or so, but for some reason, the moment they arrived the jovial atmosphere died. Robb was looking at Harry like he might pounce on him every time he touched Sansa, and Sansa was spending more time trying to get Jon to see that she was flirting with Harry than actually flirting with Harry.

 

_Oh darling, why don’t you just tell him? It’s plain as day that he’s wild about you._

 

Anyway, this had all been well and good until Myrcella had dragged Sansa to the bathroom after she’d had one too many and _dismissed_ Harry. The boy had rightly not taken that well, and having had one too many himself, had seemingly decided to confront Jon (his boss) about it while they were in there. 

 

“Mate, I get it, but this is not the night, why don’t you go sleep it off, alright?,” Robb asked as he stood in between Jon and Harry. 

 

“What’s going on?,” Sansa asked. 

 

“What’s going on is this is over,” Harry growled at her. 

 

Myrcella stepped in front of Sansa, “Go home, Harry, alright? We’ll see you Monday.”

 

“That’s just _brilliant_ , the irresistible, Myrcella Baratheon. You and Stark make a nice couple, peacekeepers and all,” Harry slurred. 

 

Myrcella felt her face get hot, and she couldn’t look at any of them. But thankfully, for her sake anyway, Harry wasn’t done. 

 

He stepped closer to them, looking at Sansa, and only stopped due to Myrcella’s hand on his chest, “I coulda loved you, you know? But I never had a chance did I?”

 

_Harry Hardyng everyone, exposing all of us for the fools we are._

 

He stormed off then, leaving the five of them standing there, not sure where to look. 

 

“What the hell are you doing, Sansa?,” Robb asked. It was uncharacteristic of him to look so disappointed in his favourite sister, and Sansa curled into Myrcella. “Come on, I’ll take you home, you need to sleep it off.”

 

“No! No, you’re angry at me I won’t have you taking care of me!,” Sansa said. 

 

“Sansa,” Robb said calmly, but she could tell he was fighting his annoyance. 

 

“Arya, why don’t you take Sansa outside and get a taxi, you can both sleep over at my place,” then she turned to Sansa and put an arm around her, “We’ll go old school and have a slumber party okay, sweetling?”. The two girls nodded at her and walked through the bar. 

 

“Jon… are you going to be alright?,” she asked, turning to the silent boy first. 

 

She’d never seen him so white, it was like he’d just seen a ghost. As though he’d been told everything he’d ever believed in was wrong. _So now you know, she loves you too._

 

“I uh… I’m going to take a walk,” he finally managed. He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Thanks for watching out for her.”

 

She was left then with Robb. The one person she shouldn’t be alone with. The one person who she trusted more than everyone and frightened her more than anyone.

 

“Who knew Harry Hardyng was so sage?,” she asked Robb, trying to make light of it. 

 

“Is he?,” Robb asked her. His blue eyes connected with hers and she felt shackled, unable to move. “Was he right about everything?”

 

“Wasn’t he?,” she managed. 

 

He looked at her for a long while and he nodded. The girls were waiting for her and he was her boss and nothing would be sorted tonight so she stepped forward, unsure of what to say to him. She settled for a kiss to his cheek. 

 

Her lips burned the entire way home. 


	7. Well it is a bit obvious

"Robb do you have the marketing report?," Ella asked as she came into his office. 

 

It was Sunday afternoon and they'd been there for hours, after only quitting at midnight the night before. 

 

She was dressed in jeans and a camel colored sweater, her face make-up free. She was beautiful, more than, but looked tired. _Then again, how could she not when you've been working her to the bone?_

 

Myrcella never complained though, never showed any signs of growing tired or frustrated. She had told him that if he was working, she was working and that was that. In truth, the Bolton project was just as much hers now as it was his. 

 

The rest of the team, including the interns, had come in and out, putting hours in here and there. Jon had been with them all last night, and would be coming in shortly. 

 

"Uh, yeah, I think Sandy sent over a new draft though, I don't know why she isn't copying you on these things..." he said with a tinge of annoyance as he pressed print on the most up to date draft.

 

Myrcella only smiled to herself and grabbed the report from the printer. She sat down at the table in his office, her new unofficial workspace, and started leafing through. 

 

"Are you aware they've increased the residual promise?," she said. Robb was momentarily distracted by the way she let the cap of her highligher roll over her bottom lip. 

 

"Uh no, that's supposed to be capped," he said, walking over to her. He pulled up the chair next to her and she tilted the sheet towards him slightly, leaning closer so that they might both see the page. Up close he could smell her jasmine perfume, and his breath caused a golden tendril to tickle her neck. _Focus._ ”That's a non-negotiable. We have no idea how far these things could go, we don't want to be paying them in 2030 because someone got too eager on the pitch."

 

She looked at him and smiled, "What are you smiling about?," he asked her. 

 

"Nothing I just... I like working with you," she said and blushed. "I'll just go through these and see if I can catch Sandy at home."

 

"Okay, thanks," he said, standing up. He went back over to his desk to pull up the financials. "Oh, and Ella? If it weren't obvious...I don't know how I've ever done this job without you.”

 

***

 

_"I don't know how I've ever done this job without you,"_

 

The words echoed over and over again in her head. Jon had forcibly removed her and Robb at 7 pm last night, and they'd parted ways then, Robb to a family dinner and she to her home. 

 

She'd showered and made dinner, not that she had much of an appetite, even watched an old movie, but she couldn't get his words out of her head. It had been a sleepless night, though that had more to do with the meeting today than anything else. 

 

She knew that was a thing that people said, but if she'd learned anything this summer, it was that Robb didn't say anything he didn't mean. He was honest to a fault, though never cruel, and he had always been very positively vocal about her performance. 

 

So it wasn't really the words, it was the way he'd said them. Like he couldn't _not_ say it, but like he was saying it so he didn't have to say something else. Trading truths. 

 

She took special care with her appearance that morning, as Robb had asked her to attend the meeting at Bolton Reserve. 

 

She blew her hair out so that it fell in soft waves, she wore an A-line black dress that fell just above her knee with a black and white cropped blazer. She completed the look with black stilettos, her grandmother's watch and a pair of diamond earrings she'd gotten for her 16th birthday. She wore no make-up except a bit of concealer under her eyes to hide the circles from another sleepless night. 

 

She made her way to the office, arriving just before 9. She was not surprised to see Robb already there. 

 

"Did you sleep at all?," she asked by way of greeting. 

 

He looked up from his computer, "8 hours, and yourself?"

 

She couldn't tell if he was feigning calm or really just had an iron backbone, but no one could fake bravado like a Baratheon, so she said, "Slept like a baby."

 

He grinned at her, _he knows,_ "Good to hear, you've got nothing to worry about. You know this stuff inside and out, and I'll be with you every step of the way."

 

"Wait wait wait, I thought I was just _attending_?," she asked, color rising on her neck. 

 

"Well, attending, presenting, is there really much of a difference?," he asked her with a roguish grin. 

 

She looked at him, opening and then closing her mouth as she dismissed each of her possible retorts as decidely unprofessional. She sat down in one of the chairs opposite his desk. 

 

"Ella, you of all people know what this deal could mean, you know what I've put into it, do you think I would ask you to do this if you weren't ready?," he asked her.

 

They were both pragmatic, one of the many reasons they worked so well together. Practically speaking, she knew that there was no way he'd risk something like this just to give his assistant a heart attack. 

 

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," she said begrudgingly. 

 

He smiled at her, "Good, now how do you propose your introduction should go?”

 

***

 

Robb sat in awe of Ella. In truth, he hadn’t intentionally tried to fluster her by announcing she’d be spearheading the meeting that morning, he just hadn’t decided until last night. 

 

He’d been watching her debate Jon over one of the finer points of the agreement. She made a quip about lending terms and it had clicked. It was something her uncle Tyrion has once told him actually, _you don’t know anything well enough until you can make a joke about it_. 

 

She’d been surprised, but in her typical fashion had taken it in stride. 

 

They’d arrived an hour earlier, and after he’d made the initial introductions between her and Ramsay Bolton, he had sat back, ready to provide numbers if she needed them, and watched. 

 

“So you’re saying that we’ll have our money back within the first year?,” Ramsay asked. 

 

“Within the first nine months actually,” Ella countered. “You’ll have profits within the first year. This is based on the model in which you relinquish interest in five years. Should you choose the option for seven, you’ll see profits after the first fifteen months.”

 

Ramsay’s jaw clenched and he surveyed her. He gave Robb a look as if to say “ _Where on earth did you find her_?”

 

Robb stared back at him blankly. He didn’t know Ramsay well, who hadbeen unknown to them prior to two years ago, but he’d quickly developed a reputation for being ruthless. He knew he’d be looking for signs of weakness in their pitch, in Ella. _Good luck._

 

When he shifted his focus back to her, she looked him right in the eye and gave him a small smile. To Robb’s surprise, Ramsay smiled back at her. 

 

He waggled his finger at her, but addressed Robb, “She’s good, very good.” Robb only smirked at him. “Well of course I’ll have to have the lawyers peruse everything, just to make sure the Ts are appropriately crossed and so on, but I’d say we are very close. Now Robb, my father will flay me alive if I don’t send you over to say hello. Do you mind terribly?”

 

He looked at Ella and she gave him a smile as if to say _Go schmooze Mr. Boss Man_ and he cleared his throat. 

 

“Of course, will your assistant be able to point me in the right direction?,” he asked as politely as he could. 

 

“She will… Myranda?,” he called and his assistant came in, “Please escort Mr. Stark to my father’s office.”

 

***

 

“So how long have you been in Mr. Stark’s employ?,” Ramsay asked her, rising from his seat after Robb left the room. 

 

She rose as well, smoothing her dress and went to pick up her bag from the corner. 

 

“Just for the summer, I was his intern and then he took me on as his assistant,” she said.

 

“Ahh I would have too if our interns looked like you,” he said with a smile. She grimaced, “I mean no offence _of course,_ you’re obviously very capable, but look at you,” he said and did just that. He even licked his lips. 

 

“Myranda seems very capable,” she said, resisting the urge to shudder and counting down the seconds until she and Robb could be in a taxi on their way back to the office. 

 

“She is, she is,” he said, and all of a sudden he was right up against her, pressing her against the wall, “But she doesn’t do this to me anymore,” he said, pressing his erect penis against her. 

 

“Mr. Bolton, please,” she said, trying to escape but his grasp was too strong. 

 

“Oh come on,” he said in her ear, “I can be just as good to you as Stark can, but I can be bad too, isn’t that what princesses like you _really_ want?,” he asked and to her horror grasped her breast. 

 

She didn’t think, years of self-defence training kicked in and before she realised what she was doing he was doubled over in pain as she’d just kneed him in the unmentionables. 

 

“You fucking _cunt_ ,” he growled at her, just as Robb was walking in the door. 

 

“What the fuck did you just call her? What’s happened, Myrcella! Myrcella?,” he asked, closing the distance between them and surveying her as if checking for injury, though it was Ramsay who crouched on the floor. 

 

“Just a difference of opinions,” Myrcella said as calmly as she could, “We should be going.”

 

He gave her a bewildered look but said nothing more, simply put his body in between her and Ramsay and escorted her out of the building and into a taxi. 

 

***

 

Robb’s knuckles were white, his heart was racing, he felt like he was going mad. Ella sat next to him, back straight as an arrow, looking out the window. The only thing not still about her was her hands, which were shaking lightly.

 

He didn’t see what had happened, but he could guess from the aftermath and he felt sick to his stomach and more angry than he’d ever been. _How could I have left you?_

 

“I think I should take you home,” he said, fighting to keep his voice measured, fighting against reaching out for her and holding her in his arms. 

 

“A-am I being fired?,” she asked, with only a slight tremor in her tone. 

 

“Of course not!,” he nearly shouted at her and hated that she flinched away from him. 

 

“Then if it’s alright with you, I’d like to come back to the office,” she said, fighting a glance at him. 

 

“As you wish, but if… if you need anything, or you want to leave early, you… just do whatever you need to do, alright?,” he asked her as calmly as he could. 

 

“Alright,” she said. 

 

He escorted her into the building, and there was a new way they walked with one another. She had made herself smaller, imperceptibly so, but she had, and he had made himself larger, making sure that at any moment his arm-span would be enough to deflect anything coming her way. 

 

As they walked in, his father in his great booming voice, with a jovial smile on his face, said, “Ah the dream team returns, how did it go?”

 

“The Bolton deal is off,” he growled.

 

“Robb!” Myrcella exclaimed with fury and fear in her eyes. 

 

He shot her a look as his father started raging at him. He lead his father into his office, not wanting to discuss it in front of the whole team.

 

“What in the name of the gods are you talking about, son? We’ve been working on this deal for months!,” his father exclaimed. 

 

“They are not the kind of people we want to do business with,” Robb said, not wanting to get into the details for fear he’d actually get sick. 

 

“I know they do things a bit… unconventionally, but -“ his father started and Robb saw red.

 

“I WILL NOT DO BUSINESS WITH THEM!,” he raged and his father looked at him, as if trying to figure out a puzzle piece. He paced back and forth before taking a seat in one of the chairs. 

 

“What did he do to her?,” his father asked calmly.

 

“What?,” Robb asked, stalling pointlessly. 

 

“Myrcella, Robb. What did he do to her?,” his father asked again, but his voice was kinder now, and there was something else in it too. Fear. 

 

He didn’t want her dragged into this. “What makes you think -“

 

Jon barged in the room, “Did I just hear the Bolton deal is off?”

 

“Yes,” Robb said at the same time his father said “No.”

 

“Father, this deal is off or I will leave this company, do you hear me?,” Robb said. He wasn’t bluffing. He would leave today before he ever signed a contract with them.

 

“You _love_ this girl and it is clouding your judgment!,” his father said, slamming his hand on the desk. 

 

“What did he do to Ella?” Jon asked. _What? How does he know?_

 

His father gave him a look that seemed to say _See?_ But Jon wasn’t just asking. 

 

“What the FUCK did he do to Ella?,” Jon growled. 

 

“Jon…” Robb said, but Jon was already walking out the door. 

 

“Are you hurt?” Jon asked Ella, towering over her where she sat listening to their voicemails. 

 

“No…,” she said quietly. She of course, the one who had been wronged was the only person acting with the least bit of decorum.

 

“Did he fucking _touch_ you?” Jon demanded. Robb was keenly aware that the eye of every person in the executive wing was on them. 

 

“Jon…” she said, her gaze shifting nervously between him and Jon. 

 

The look was the only answer Jon needed and he started pacing before punching the wall. 

 

Then he turned to Robb’s father and said, “This deal is off, or I’m leaving too.”

 

***

 

“You didn’t need to drive me home,” she said from the backseat. 

 

“Yes we did,” her bosses chorused from the front. 

 

She sighed. They’d been hovering over her like mother hens ever since she and Robb had returned from the Bolton Reserve. _Oh you honourable Northern fools, do you think this is the first time a man has done such a thing?_

 

“I need to say something to you two,” she said quietly.

 

Jon shifted the car in park and they both turned around. 

 

“You don’t have to quit this deal because of me. I…” she said and gave a harsh chuckle, “I’m a Baratheon and a Lannister, okay? I get the bigger picture. I appreciate what you’re doing but… I won’t be offended. I know that you two… feel some sort of…protectiveness for me or something and I appreciate it but… this deal could be an incredible thing for your company, and I will only be a part of it for another few weeks.”

 

“I’m not going to speak for Robb here,” Jon said, “But _fuck you_ Ella,” he said and there were hurt in his eyes, “I could never work with him now, not after this. I don’t know what he did but if you, _you_ , kicked him in the balls… which _good for you by the way…_ I … well I can’t even imagine what he did to you to make you do that. I won’t tolerate someone treating any of our employees like that, and you’re not just an employee, and you know it. You have to know that.”

 

She nodded at him. She got it. He was more than a boss to her. He was her friend. He was one of few people that she trusted implicitly. She squeezed the hand he’d rested on the back of the seat, and in a heartbreakingly old-fashioned gesture, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a solemn kiss to the back of it. _You couldn’t have known._

 

Robb was silent for a long time. After a while, it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything, so she simply said, “Well… I’m sorry again, and thank you for the ride home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

She got out of the car and went into her townhouse. The first order of business was kicking off her high heels and stepping into the slippers she left at her front door. 

 

She knew she should shower, wash the day off of her, but she’d skipped lunch in all the excitement and was famished. She went into her kitchen and opened a bottle of Arbor Red, pouring herself an oversized glass. 

 

She took out a pan and turned the stove on low, pouring a bit of olive oil in it until it sizzled. She took to dicing garlic and onions, tossing them in with a bit of oregano. She was about to open a can of diced tomatoes when her doorbell rang. 

 

“Robb?,” she asked, not quite believing the sight of him on her doorstep with madness in his eyes.

 

“I um… I shouldn’t be here,” he said, and he was shifting nervously, “I mean, especially with the day you had but uh… can I come in?”

 

“Sure, I mean, of course! Please,” she said, opening the door. 

 

 _Why does this feel better?_ She liked living away from her family, and she liked her alone time, but the minute he walked in, it felt more like a home. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’ve interrupted you cooking, by gods that smells good -“ he said with a sheepish grin, looking more himself already.

 

“Oh, don’t worry, but um, do you mind if I continue?,” she asked. 

 

“Of course not, Ella, don’t be silly.”

 

She smiled and nodded, moving quickly to dump the tomatoes in, before stirring in a bit of basil and pepper. 

 

“Please sit,” she said, gesturing to the high chairs at the island, “I’ll um, only be another minute and then this will just cook for a bit,” she said and pulled down another wine glass and set it in front of him, gesturing to the open bottle. 

 

She took out a big pot and filled it with water and set it to boil. Knowing she had a few minutes she went and sat next to him at the other chair, bringing her wine. 

 

They wordlessly clinked glasses and took small sips and then looked at each other and nervously laughed. 

 

“So…” she started, because someone had to. 

 

“I should have said something in the car, but I’m um… still processing it all,” he said. “And I … gods I don’t mean that any of this is about _me_ , except that well… it is… because it’s about you.”

 

“What are you processing?,” she asked, her heart beating wildly.

 

“I could have killed him,” he said, looking her directly in the eye. She opened her mouth to say something but he stopped her, “I’m not just saying that because it’s a figure of speech. I’m telling you, honestly, that I could have _killed_ him. I walked in there and he had just called you that and he was doubled over and your face was as white as snow and I… I’m processing what that did to me.”

_Oh._

 

She stood up, the water was boiling. She dumped a box of pasta in, stirred the sauce, took a sip of wine. 

 

“I was angry with you today,” she said, and it took all of her strength to look him in the eye as she did. “I was angry at you for throwing out the Bolton deal after all the work you’d put into it, after all the work everyone had put in to it.”

 

***

 

_The Lannisters trained her well._

 

Here she was, a twenty year old girl, who had just been groped during a business meeting and she was angry that the deal was off. 

 

“Ella, that deal could have fallen apart for any number of reasons. That’s what happens in our business. People always put a lot of hard work into things that often don’t come to fruition. Believe me when I say, I have never lost a deal for a better reason than keeping you _safe,_ ” he said.

 

“I know. And I lied to you in the car… I would have been offended if you’d gone through with it,” she said and she cast a nervous look at him. He’d never realised that her eyes got wide when she was nervous, it made her look younger than she was. “No one has ever stood up for me like that. In my family, we always serve the greater family good over any individual… but… I hold you to a higher standard. And that’s your fault because in a very short period of time, you taught me to. I… expect more from you than I do from anyone else and I’m sorry for it. Because it isn’t fair.”

 

Robb’s heart soared. This was the closest she’d come to admitting she felt the things he felt for her.

 

He stood up and joined her at the stove. He took the spoon from her hands and set it down, turning her gently. 

 

“I will _always_ choose you. Greater good be damned, do you hear me?,” he asked her, cupping her face in his hands. 

 

She nodded, closing her eyes. It was almost imperceptible, but she leaned her cheek into his hand. _This is the sweetest torture._

 

 _“But we can’t…”,_ he said, nevertheless pressing his forehead to hers.

 

Nothing could happen between them, not now. He would never give anyone a reason to say that Ella had risen on anything other than her merits. He would never open his family’s business to that sort of scandal. 

 

“I know,” she answered.

 

But she was still a twenty year old girl who had a horrible day, standing in her kitchen in her slippers, all alone in her big house. So he did the only thing he could do, the thing he couldn’t _not_ do. He folded her into his arms and held her and he didn’t let go until the reluctant tears had stopped.

 

He was nearly blind when he left, blind with love and desire and anger and fear. He was so blind that he didn’t notice the flash of the camera.


	8. Sources say...

**_Risky Business: Is the Stark Heir having an affair with his Secretary?_ **

 

Sources close to Robb Stark, 23, and Myrcella Baratheon, 20, have confirmed that the duo have recently begun a _steamy_ relationship. A Northern Heir and a Southern Heiress would normally be enough to warrant our coverage, but what makes this all the more _decadent_ is that Myrcella Baratheon is Mr. Stark's secretary. 

 

"It was obvious they began seeing one another almost immediately after Myrcella began at the company. They tried to keep it quiet but everyone knew what was going on," an unnamed former assistant of Mr. Stark's revealed. 

 

Apparently Miss Baratheon started out as an intern and quickly rose through the ranks to Mr. Stark's office. Wonder how she did that?

 

Mr Stark was previously linked to a Jeyne Westerling and Miss Baratheon dated Trystane Martell for several years. Neither have been linked to anyone recently.

 

However there are some who say Mr Stark is not the _only_ one for Miss Baratheon. Reports state she is also quite close with Mr Jon Snow, another executive of Stark Industries and childhood friend of Mr. Stark. But can we blame her?

 

For Mr. Snow's sake, I hope the rumors are not true, as it turns out Mr Stark is horribly possessive! "I simply asked Myrcella how she was liking living up North and he threatened me and killed an active deal," Ramsay Bolton says. 

 

In response to the original story that broke on our website last night, Stark Industries issued the following statement:

_We do not entertain gossip. All those who rise in Stark Industries rise on their own merits. We are a family, and we count our colleagues amongst our closest friends. Neither Robb Stark nor Myrcella Baratheon has acted untowardly, both are invaluable members of our team. There will be no further comment made._

 

Myrcella Baratheon, arriving to work in a gorgeous pale pink skirt-suit and a white blouse, declined to comment on her relationship with Mr. Stark. When asked who she was wearing, the beautiful blonde gave her first smile of the day, "Little Dove, it's all I wear nowadays.”

 

************************************************************************************************

 

 

“Are you sure you really want me to? I won’t be offended. You could easily tweak this to your measurements...,” Myrcella said as she stood in front of her full length mirror.

 

It was her final fitting for the City Ball and she was unsuccessfully failing to convince Sansa that she might not be the best face for the brand right now. 

 

“Absolutely not - I can’t wear gold and besides, if anything this means _more_ cameras will be on you,” Sansa argued more vehemently than a girl with safety pins in between her teeth should be able to. 

 

 _Yes but there are certain shades of limelight that can wreck a girl’s complexion_ she thought, thinking of one of her favorite films. 

 

She wasn’t sure who had tipped off the paparazzi, but someone had, and Robb had been photographed leaving her townhouse on Monday evening. After that, Roslin and Ramsay had only been too quick to corroborate the press’ worst inclinations. It wasn’t confirmed, but Myrcella assumed another unnamed source was Harry Hardyng. He’d turned sour on her and the company after he’d broken up with Sansa. 

 

“If you’re sure... besides,” Myrcella said with an impish grin, “I’d really hate to miss the opportunity to wear this.”

 

“There’s my girl,” Sansa said with a grin. 

 

The girls made dinner that evening and took it up to her roof garden. Myrcella couldn’t believe that in three weeks time she would be heading south again for her final year at university. She felt more at home in the North than she ever had in King’s Landing or Casterly Rock, she’d found more family than she’d ever had. 

 

Around 8 o’clock Sansa’s phone rang.

 

“Hey Wolf,” she said, shooting a nervous glance at Myrcella. “Oh uh... I’d love to but I’m at Ella’s...” Sansa’s eyes got wide, “Here?! ... um hold on, let me ask...” Sansa turned to her like she couldn’t quite believe what she was about to ask, “Can um Robb and Jon come here?”

 

_What game are you playing, Robb Stark?_

 

“Of course,” she said, forcing a smile on her face.

 

***

 

He’d never seen Ella annoyed. Or at least, not with him. It was _adorable_.

 

She stood in her kitchen, wearing yoga pants and a tank top, with her arms crossed over her chest and an irresistible divet in between her eyes. 

 

He and Jon had only just left the office, the paparazzi still camped out outside. There were photographers outside of Myrcella’s house too, it had taken all his strength not to wave at them. 

 

He wasn’t sure who tipped them off in the first place, but when he did they would regret it. He wasn’t worried about the company, they could weather the storm. There reputation was too pristine for an office romance to ruin it, especially when the girl involved was beyond reproach. Nobody could accuse her of gold-digging, if anything, they’d have to look to him for that.

 

But he worried about Myrcella. This was not a girl used to ridicule. She’d been born with a golden spoon in her mouth, and through her family name as well as her own merits, she had been the belle of society. She could keep her head held high all she wanted, but he knew what it must be like for her, the girl who spoke six languages, had acted as an unofficial diplomat, and had at least twenty IQ points on him to be accused of sleeping her way up the corporate ladder. 

 

“Would you like wine?,” she asked him after Jon and Sansa had disappeared. 

 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” he said, fighting the urge to smirk at her when she scowled. 

 

She cocked her eyebrow at him and went into her fridge, pulling out a beer instead and sliding it over to him. 

 

He grinned at her now, fully. _You know I’d let you punish me for the rest of my life if it feels like this._

 

“So,” he said, taking a big sip of beer, “I suppose you’d like to know why I’m here.”

 

“Oh, was there a reason?,” she asked, “I figured sense had left you _completely._ ”

 

“Oh it has,” he said, and her mesmerising green eyes got wider, “You have stolen it from me. But you know that.”

 

“ _I’ve_ stolen it?,” she asked and he stood up, stalking towards her. She stepped backwards, until her back pressed against the counter.

 

“You know you have,” he said as he met her, his hands resting on the counter on either side of her. She raised her eyes, defiantly meeting his. She looked like a caged lion, terrified and vicious, but oh so beautiful. 

 

“We’ve discussed this,” she said, but he’s bending his head so that he might bury his nose in her hair and there’s a flush on her chest and he feels electrified. 

 

“Everyone thinks we’re guilty of it _already_ ,” he says, tilting her chin up to him. She’s bunching his shirt in her hands and there are unshed tears in her eyes and he may surround her but he is her hostage. “Why deny ourselves now?”

 

“B-because then we’d be guilty,” she said, but she is pulling him in closer. 

 

“So be it,” he said, taking her cheeks in his hands, “Give me their condemnation, just not yours.”

 

She let’s out a little cry and then he is kissing her and he is guilty and it doesn’t matter because she is his morality now. They are all hands and lips and madness and truth.

 

She is his religion, and he finds that he is suddenly a devout man.

 

***

 

“Myrcella, Myrcella! What say you to those who saw Robb Stark leaving your townhouse late last night?,” a ‘journalist’ shouted at her. 

 

Myrcella stood on the red carpet of the City Ball, wearing the most gorgeous dress ever created. With long sheer sleeves and thousands of seed pearls, in the faintest gold, it was a concoction befitting a queen. 

 

Sansa had been right. Though there was usually a demand for her on the red carpet, the paparazzi were positively feral tonight and she thought she might go blind from the flashbulbs. 

 

She turned to her side, a hand on her hip and said, “I’d say that there is something wrong with the fact that I’m being condemned for an alleged consensual relationship yet no one has any concerns about 50 year old men stalking a 20 year old woman.”

 

_Whoops._

 

She hadn’t quite _meant_ to say that. Of course, she’d been thinking about it a lot. Her trash had been rifled through and she could hear them outside her house every night and she was over it. 

 

“So do you deny that you’re sleeping with your boss?,” another asked her. 

 

“Why do you care? You’re going to run the same story anyway, regardless of what I say. Though be sure to appropriately label me in the next article, I’m an Executive Assistant not a Secretary,” she said. 

 

“Mr. Snow, Mr. Snow! What do you say to these rumors?,” the paparazzi shouted as Jon made his way down the line. He didn’t indulge them like she did. He wouldn’t pose for their pictures. 

 

“I only have something to say to one person,” he said, then he came up to her and kissed her cheek. “You look gorgeous and terrifying. Robb wants to come speak to you, but you know…he’s retained some sanity,” he says with a grin. Then he looks at her sternly and says, “You’re more than what they say you are and you know it, they’re giving you a platform, now make them _listen._ ”

 

He makes his way down the line and the same reporter asks her, “So you have a bigger issue being called a Secretary than you do being accused of sleeping with your boss?”

 

_You’re more than what they say you are._

 

“I have an issue with being called a Secretary when its used to demean women. You like the sound of a boss sleeping with his secretary, it sounds more salacious doesn’t it? Do you realise you, as a woman, are actively contributing to the anti-feminist narrative? Any time you use secretary when you really mean _whore_ and you undermine my achievements by remarking on my beauty rather than my talent you are assisting all of the men in the world who would see us _fail_. The truth of the matter is, workplace relationships happen all the time. Proximity _breeds_ intimacy. It isn’t the relationship that’s dirty, it’s the insinuation that it’s the only way I could succeed. _You,_ Robyn, who were passed up as anchor for a man with half your experience, and you, Sadie, who are forced to wear revealing dresses while your co-anchors are in three piece suits, are actively trying to pull another woman down for the unforgivable audacity of being good at her job _and_ desirable to men. I am not _offended_ by your insinuation that I am sleeping with my boss. I am _offended_ that you would try to shame a woman for having a career and a relationship. So write all the articles you want, sell your magazine, and the next time you get passed over for a promotion, wonder how many potential advocates you lost because they committed the great crime of being a woman,” she says, and if it were possible, even more flashbulbs come to life. 

 

“Myrcella, Myrcella!,” the paparazzi shout, but she only has one more thing to say.

 

“The gown is by Little Dove,” she said, answering one of the more respectful reporters. 

 

Then she made her way down the red carpet, as if they weren’t there at all.


	9. A Barbarian against the Divine

“So you’re saying this model actually means our investors will see profits in the first year?,” Robb asks her as she stands behind her reviewing the graphs on her computer. “But what if they extend their terms?”

 

As he asks he takes control of the mouse, though her hand still rests on it, and clicks into the next screen. 

 

“Mmm,” he says in her ear, as though the marginally changes lines are _just so very interesting_. She feels goosebumps rise on her arms and clenches the hand that is at her side. 

 

“Stop it,” she chides him. 

 

“Look I know we’ve been over this a few times but -,” he says and she can hear the triumphant grin. _You are so annoying and I want to rip your clothes off in punishment._

 

“You know what you’re doing,” she said in frustration. 

 

“Do I?,” he asked in a low voice in her ear. _How did my nipples peak just from a drop in octave?_

 

“You’re a barbarian,” she reprimanded. _Take me now._

 

LAST WEEKEND

 

_“You’re a barbarian,” she said as she removed herself from his grasp, his teeth still closed over her earlobe._

 

_“And you’re divine,” he countered, stalking her as she got off her couch, taking their wine glasses into the kitchen just for something to do._

 

_She ran the glasses under the warm water and suddenly he was there. He peppered light kisses up and down her neck, and she hated herself for her weakness as she laid the back of her head against his chest, exposing more smooth skin to him. He let his fingers trail up her sides, ever so slightly brush against her breasts and she let out an unladylike cry, turning around and reaching for him just as he reached for her._

 

_Their lips met in a sweet, urgent way and as she was wrapping her arms around his neck, he was leaning down to pick her up by the backs of her thighs, holding her against him. The faucet was still running as he walked her back to the couch, collapsing on top of her as they each kissed as much of the other as they could._

 

_She felt him, hard against her, she knew he’d be impressive and her traitorous body arched her hips against him._

 

_“Gods Ella,” he groaned into her ear and she felt herself go weak as she felt his strong, gentle hands on her, tangling in her hair. She did it again without thinking about it and they both moaned. “This is worth their damnation…”_

 

_It was like a bucket of cold water and all of a sudden she was pushing him off of her. Ever the gentleman, he put four feet in between them as though to assure her that she was safe, though she’d never been in greater danger._

 

_“What did-,” he starts._

 

_“We can’t do this,” she says firmly. She was not a girl that ever felt guilty about not sleeping with someone, though in this case she was sorely disappointed herself. “It’s wrong.”_

 

_“Sex isn’t actually a sin, Ella,” he said sagely, though there was a smirk on his lips._

 

_“No, but sex with your boss might be,” she argued petulantly. The smirk turned to a grin._

 

_“You’re right,” he said, stepping forward slowly, “Though dry-humping him is just so very proper.”_

 

_“Robb!,” she said, though she was giggling into his chest. Then she looked up at him, “It’s only a couple of weeks, we aren’t animals. We can wait, right?”_

 

_“I can,” he said, and there was heat in his blue eyes. He looked down at her, his eyes trailing to her lips, “I’m just worried about you.”_

 

_She smiled and he kissed the corner of it, “Oh I think I’ll be alright,” she said, full of false bravado._

 

_“Good,” he said her ear, “Because when you’re ready, you’re going to have to beg for it.”_

 

_“If you’re waiting for me to beg,” she said, “Then we’ll never sleep together.”_

 

_If there was one thing Myrcella Baratheon didn’t do, it was beg._

 

_He pulled away from her, then took her face in his hands and pulled her in for a deep, soul-crushing kiss. Her body was like putty in his arms as he dipped her backwards, her mouth molded to his as he took what he wanted from her, sucking her bottom lip and eliciting a whimper._

 

_He pulled her up, setting her firmly on her two feet, making sure she was steady._

 

_Then he gave her the cockiest grin she’d ever seen, which was really saying something, and he said, “We’ll just see about that.”_

 

PRESENT DAY

 

He’d been incorrigible since then, not even letting her kiss him until she pouted and worked him into such a frenzy that he’d groan, whispering some expletive and crash his lips against hers. 

 

This was ill-advised, no better than sleeping together, but by the gods if it wasn’t the sweetest kind of torture.

 

“And you’re divine,” he said in hers, before standing up and breaking the spell. 

 

She turned around and he was clearing his throat, but there was a crazed look in his eyes that at least assured her that he was as affected by her as she was by him. They were the last two in the office, like always. _It would be so easy to give in_.

 

As if a sign from the gods her phone started buzzing. She picked it up, “Hi Dovey -“

 

“Ella? Can you come get me? Don’t tell Robb,” she said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short update but I wanted to get back into it!


	10. A Horse to Water

Robb stormed into Jon’s townhouse. Ella had ran out of the office ten minutes earlier, hardly bothering to shout some half thought out excuse as she did. He had wanted to run after her, but he knew her. She would have dragged him along if she thought she needed help. That could mean only one thing. The only part of Sansa in danger was her heart. And if that was the case, there could be only one person it involved. His best friend, Jon Snow.

 

“Robb!,” Jon exclaimed, turning around at the sound of his footsteps. Robb could see that his eyes were tinged with red and he had a haunted, crazed look about him. “I - I can explain - I didn’t mean… I…”

 

“Sit down,” Robb barked.

 

Jon only took orders from Robb’s father. They had grown up like brothers and while they were normally in line with the others thoughts, when they disagreed they did so as equals. Robb had never so much as given him a task.

 

Jon sat warily though, his dark grey eyes trained on Robb, as though Robb was a rabid wolf that may strike at any time. He felt himself pacing and snarling and forced himself to calm down. This was Jon after all.

 

“Tell me what happened,” Robb finally said as calmly as he could.

 

***

 

_Earlier that night…_

 

_“Jonnywonnypuddinpiedidn’tkissthegirlsandmadeemcry….,” Sansa cooed from the back of his car._

 

_“Get your foot out of my face,” he growled with more bark than he’d meant to and she quickly retracted the strappy silver heel she’d been resting on his shoulder. He didn’t mind her feet in his face, but all he could think about was those long legs and how flexible she was with them even when she was half-in-the-bag._

 

_“Get your face outta my foot,” Sansa said stubbornly and then started to giggle at her own cleverness._

 

_He had gotten a call a half hour earlier from her. She was at some crowded bar, and he could hear people yelling for shots in the background._

 

_“Can you come and get me, Aemon?” she’d asked sweetly._

 

_Whenever he and Robb had played as kids, Jon was always Aemon the Dragonknight, and her using that nickname had gone straight to his heart, right where she’d made her home._

 

_“I’ll be there soon, Dove,” he’d told her already grabbing his keys, “Text me the address.”_

 

_He’d gotten a rather jumbled text that told him the bar was about fifteen minutes away, in a part of town that he never would have brought her to let alone let her go to if he could help it. He drove, cursing any red lights. She hadn’t sounded hurt or even upset, but the thought of her out on her own, men staring at her and offering to buy her tequila when all she’d want was a lemon drop martini, was enough to make him speed through the streets._

 

_He’d parked, not even shutting the car off, leaving his hazards on and walked into the bar. It smelled like cigarette smoke, and seemed like the kind of place where they’d rely on the spilled vodka to clean the floors. It took him hardly no time to find her - she was like an amazon in her six inch heels and sky high ponytail. He pushed through the crowd to get to her and he placed his hand on her back._

 

_She jumped and turned but when she saw it was him she broke into the most heartbreaking smile he’d ever seen. No, no don’t look at me like that. Don’t give me hope, not now, don’t please please I beg of you._

 

_“Aemon,” she breathed into his ear as she threw her arms around him._

 

_She smelled like lemons and she felt like heaven and it was so crowded and so anonymous that he held her back, because it could all be misconstrued as brotherly concern if he were ever pressed on it._

 

_“I’m here, Dovey,” he said, his breath hot on her ear. Did she just shiver? he wondered._

 

_He removed himself from her grasp reluctantly and placed one hand on the small of her back, holding her hand with his other so that he could guide her outside. He caught for one moment what it must be like for a girl as beautiful as her, as all the drunk guys young and old leered at her on their way out._

 

_His car was right outside and he opened the passenger door for her. She twirled in his arms, draping hers over his shoulders and swaying._

 

_“Sansa,” he complained. She was more slender than any girl her height had the right to be but her center of gravity was all off and he was having a hard time keeping her upright._

 

_“Jonnnn,” she cooed in his ear. To his shame he felt it straight in his cock. “Let’s go to your place.”_

 

_He went blind, there was no mistaking her lips pressed against his neck._

 

_“Sansa, please,” he begged, “You’ve had a lot to drink, you’re not seeing clearly.”_

 

_“I see youuu,” she cooed, her tone breathy, “Everywhere,” he thought he was going to pass out. This was too much, she was too much. “That’s why Harry dumped me…we alllllll know it.”_

 

_“Sansa,” he pleaded, “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I’ll take you for breakfast.”_

 

_“You work tomorrow,” she said with a pout._

 

_“I’ll go in late,” he said with a grin, “What are they going to do? Fire me?”_

 

_Yes, that is exactly what your BOSS her FATHER could do if he knew where her hands were creeping at the moment._

 

_“Sansa!,” he admonished, grabbing both her hands in his, fighting tooth and nail for the strength to be the man she deserved in this moment._

 

_She looked at him with wide eyes then shoved him off of her and got in the back seat._

 

_He shut the passenger door and stood there for a moment trying to collect himself. When he felt in control enough he walked around and got in._

 

_“Do you want to go home?,” he asked her, “Or should I take you to Robb’s?”_

 

_“Take me to Ella’s,” she asked in a small voice._

 

_The friendship between the two girls had been fast growing and fierce, and he understood. They were both smart, so sweet they could give you a toothache. They both understood what it was to be the heiress to a famous family, the expectations that came from it, and the loneliness._

 

_“Sure, Dovey,” he said and drove back through the streets, far more carefully than he had even moments before._

 

_She tried to tease him on the ride over, and she succeeded. No one could goad him like she could and he found himself angry at her irrationally. Can’t she see what it’s taking me to do this? Doesn’t she know? It’s her, it’s always been her._

 

_When they got to Ella’s townhouse he saw that the lights were still off. She and Robb had been working late on a new deal thought to be even bigger and more lucrative than the cancelled Bolton one. Ella particularly seemed to have a particular for it, but whether that was out of penance for what she believed her role to be in the collapse of the Bolton deal, or to avoid the paparazzi that were still stationed outside, he couldn’t be sure._

 

_“She’s not here, do you want me to call her?,” he asked._

 

_“Don’t bother, she gave me a key,” Sansa said, proffering one from her clutch._

 

_He rushed out of his seat when she started trying to open the door to get out, and he all but caught her in his arms as she succeeded._

 

_“I wish I didn’t know you,” she said as he righted her. It cut through him like a thousand knives, he wanted to be sick._

 

_“That’s an awful thing to say,” he said softly, because it was and he could hide a lot, but not his hurt from that._

 

_“Maybe so,” she said, “But if I met you now I could make you love me. If I didn’t know you you’d have never learned not to love me.”_

 

_There were tears in her eyes and he realised in that moment that this was real. It wasn’t the alcohol talking or her break-up with Harry. She loved him, it was written all over her face and there was only one thing to do - only one thing he could do._

 

_He gathered her face in his hands, and said, his voice gruff, “I have been trying to learn how not to love you every day since we first met. I’ve been a terrible student, a lost cause, a hopeless explorer. I love you and I have been loving you - every day, every hour, every minute.”_

 

_“Even this one?,” she asked, her voice barely a whisper._

 

_“Especially this one,” he told her, because what was the point of denying it any longer?_

 

_She broke into a smile and leaned in. It took all of his strength to take her head in her hands and press the kiss she’d been seeking to her forehead instead of her lips._

 

_“But we can’t, not now, not like this,” he told her._

 

_She didn’t hear the hope in it, only the rejection, and she pushed him away. She gave him one last withering look before stomping up the stairs, her anger sobering her, and disappeared inside._

 

***

 

“So that’s it then,” Robb finally said after Jon was done talking. He imagined that Jon had left some things out either for his benefit or for Sansa’s pride but the message was the same. That he loved her and she loved him, which he’d already known.

 

“I didn’t touch her,” Jon told him vehemently, not for the first time.

 

Robb sighed, “I know… come on man, of _course_ I know that.”

 

“But…,” Jon started then turned to look at him, “I can’t stop loving her. I’ve tried.”

 

“I wish you hadn’t,” Robb told him honestly. Jon looked at him in disbelief and Robb saw that even now he was still the little boy who had been rejected by his father, who had grown up with that chip on his shoulder of never believing he was enough, even though he was more a man than his father had ever been in every way that counted. “You can’t imagine that there is anyone else I’d rather be with my little sister, can you? Jon you’re the best man I know.”

 

It cost him nothing to say it. It was true. Jon had everything he’d want for Sansa - he was brave, always ready to do the right thing no matter the cost to himself, he was gentle, always treating Sansa with such care as though she were made of something precious and rare, he was strong, if anything happened to him or his father he knew that Sansa would be safe, that they _all_ would be safe because of Jon. There was no one else, there could never have been anyone else for her.

 

The devotion between him and Jon was strong, visceral, but largely unspoken (why would they ever need to _speak_ of it?), so Jon cleared his throat and nodded.

 

He knew Jon had recovered when he turned to him with a self-deprecating grin, “Think you can tell Sansa that?”

 

Robb grinned back, “Yeah…let’s go.”

 

***

 

Ella had rushed out of the office so fast she’d left all of her things, so she was grateful that even in Sansa’s current state she’d remember her set of keys.

 

She found her sitting on her kitchen floor, eating grapes out of a bowl, her strappy heels discarded, mascara running down her cheeks.

 

“Oh babe,” Ella said as she walked in, kicking her heels off and plopping down on the floor next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“He loves me,” Sansa said quietly.

 

She should have asked her who she meant, but there was no point. There was only one person she could be speaking about, only one person that could make her feel like this.

 

“Of course he does,” Ella said, “It’s the most obvious thing about him.”

 

“Even more obvious than the fact that he totally uses product in his hair even though he _claims_ he doesn’t?,” Sansa asked and Ella chuckled.

 

“Yeah, even more obvious than that,” she said and felt Sansa rest her head on her shoulder. She took a grape out of the bowl and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Hey, can I ask you a kind of ratty question?”

 

“The shoes are Manolos,” Sansa offered.

 

Ella grinned and made a mental note of that but she said, “If Jon told you he loves you, why are you here sitting on my floor eating grapes instead of being with him?”

 

“Because he told me we couldn’t,” Sansa said spitefully.

 

“Ever?,” Ella asked in confusion. Jon was noble, but even he couldn’t deny true love forever, _could he?_

 

“I believe his words were: _But we can’t. Not now. Not like this_ ,” Sansa said doing an insanely good impression of him.

 

Ella bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, “How much did you drink tonight?”

 

“I only had one lemon drop martini!,” Sansa said indignantly looking at her. Ella raised her eyebrows and Sansa mumbled, “Andfourtequilashots…”

 

Ella giggled, rolling her eyes, “And don’t you think that _maybe_ just _maybe_ Jon Snow with all his honor might have had just a little bit of an issue hooking up with the girl of his dreams for the first time when she was drunk?”

 

Sansa looked down shamefaced, then up with a heartbreakingly hopeful smile, “Do you think that’s all it was?”

 

Ella opened her mouth to say something, but then they heard the doorbell rang and they shared a smile, “Yes…I really do.”

 

She shot up, Sansa more wobbly right behind her and raced to her front door, throwing the door open.

 

The sight that met her brought a smile to her face, Robb holding Jon there like he was afraid he’d turn and run.

 

“Well hello there, gentlemen,” she said with a smile.

 

***

 

Robb nearly pushed Jon into Ella’s townhouse. Ella was grinning uncontrollably and it was contagious so he grinned back at her.

 

Sansa came into the foyer a moment later and Robb fought the urge to laugh at her, but the juxtaposition of her hopeful smile against the mascara staining her cheeks made his heart hurt.

 

Robb waited for Jon to say something, but he just stood there looking at Sansa, opening and closing his mouth idiotically. Ella shot him a confused look and he groaned.

 

“Sansa, Jon has something he’d like to say to you,” Robb said finally. _Talk about leading a horse to water._

 

“I’m listening,” Sansa said cautiously.

 

“Well I love you,” Jon said, “Obviously.”

 

“Oh I’m sorry, was that _obvious_?,” Sansa nearly shouted at him and Robb rolled his eyes, because honestly, it _was_ a bit obvious.

 

“Damn it will you just let me ask you to be mine without interrupting me every two seconds,” Jon growled and Ella let out a surprised little gasp.

 

Sansa grinned but hid it quickly and said stubbornly, “Well go on then,” and then added, “Quickly, before Ella passes out.”

 

Jon sighed in frustration, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve met in my whole life, do you know that? I mean honestly, just… really irritating.”

 

Robb wasn’t exactly sure why Jon had chosen this approach but it seemed to be working as Sansa slowly started closing the distance between them, “Is that so?”

 

“Yes it is so!,” Jon said, “You really, just…I mean _really_ annoy me,” he said, “And you are spoiled. And you’re impatient.”

 

“It’s true,” Sansa agreed, when she was standing right in front of him. “And you’re too broody…and obnoxiously noble.”

 

“I’m _not_ broody,” Jon said and Robb tried not to scoff.

 

“And you’re stubborn,” Sansa said.

 

“Almost as stubborn as you,” Jon granted with a grin.

 

“And if you don’t kiss me right now I swear to god I’ll -,” Sansa started, but they never found out what she was going to do because Jon swept her into his arms and kissed her.

 

Robb had brought him here for this, but even still it was his sister so he turned to look away. He caught Ella’s eye who was jumping up and down, happy tears running down her face. _By god she’s stunning._

 

Sansa and Jon just kept on kissing so he nodded towards Ella’s kitchen and she nodded, turning and heading in that direction.

 

“Go grab something to eat, I’ll be right back,” Ella said and sprinted up the back stairs.

 

He went over to her fridge, which was always well-stocked with delicious things. He realised that moment that he hadn’t eaten dinner and he was ravenous.

 

His phone buzzed and it was a message from Ella: _Can you come up to my room and help me with something, please?_

 

He closed the fridge and walked up the back stairs to the room at the end of the hallway that had the light on. He’d never been to her room, and he knocked briefly before opening the door.

 

The sight before him stopped his heart.

 

Ella sat on her bed in light blue lace lingerie, her legs crossed, a playful smile on her lips.

 

“Ella…what…?,” he started, but his head was cloudy.

 

“You wanted me to beg,” she reminded him.


	11. The Spoils of War

“You wanted me to beg,” she reminded him.

 

He was at a loss for words, they had abandoned him somewhere in the length of her legs, the swell of her small breasts, the freckles on her flat stomach.

 

“So shall I?,” she asked, her sweet voice low with desire and a hint of teasing. She got off the bed and walked over to him.

 

“Ella,” he groaned into her hair as she started unbuttoning his shirt. He felt her hands on his belt, his pants unzipping. She pushed his shirt off of him and leaned in closer, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing?”

 

“Begging,” she said with a small smile before lowering herself onto her knees. _Oh fuck, fuck, fuck._

 

She tugged down his pants and his boxers and surveyed him hungrily before taking him in her hot wet mouth. Her golden head bobbed back and forth on his length and he knew that he wouldn’t last long, not after all this time, not with the way she was moaning on him.

 

“Ella…Ella stop…,” he pleaded and she popped off of him, her lips making an obscene noise as they left his cock.

 

He bent down and picked her up, walking her over to the bed and tossing her on it. He ripped her panties off her. He knew they were expensive but she didn’t flinch. _Fuck that’s hot_. He’d buy her new ones and probably rip those too.

 

“Spread your legs,” he commanded her.

 

She opened her legs and he took in the sight of her. She was perfect, breathing heavily, her mound glistening with arousal.

 

He placed one hand on her calf, running up the length of her leg and pulling it over his shoulder. He took her other foot in his hand and brought it up to his mouth and bit her heel, delighting in her little yelp. He nibbled her ankle next, one of his hands tracing over her slit. He had meant to just tease her, but her cunt was so warm and inviting that he pushed a finger inside.

 

“ _Robb,_ ”, she sighed and he vowed then and there to never let her stop saying his name just like that. “What are you doing?”

 

He chuckled at her. She hadn’t really thought it would be _that_ easy did she?

 

“I told you, Ella, if you want me to fuck you,” he said, pushing her thighs wide apart and moving down over her, placing a kiss between her breasts. He pushed his hard cock against her and he almost lost the game in that moment, all he wanted was to shove inside her, now that he knew how wet and tight she was, but he wouldn’t, not yet. Not until she was a panting mess beneath him. “You’re going to have to beg.”

 

“I….I did beg you,” she said and he chuckled against her stomach, pressing warm open mouth kisses to her, nibbling her bellybutton.

 

It was proof of how spoiled she was. She’d never had to beg for anything, not with that face, that body. She’d never had to ask at all he’d bet. It was no small thing to be the first thing she had to work for and he delighted in taking his time with her. Teasing her the way her mere presence had been teasing him all summer.

 

“Oh sweet girl,” he chided, “You’re going to have to do better than that,” he said and he covered her cunt with his mouth. She was sweet, so sweet and he inhaled her, letting the flat of his tongue press against her.

 

She ground against him and his blood was on fire when he felt her hands tangle in his hair, holding him to her.

 

“ _Robb_ ,” she cried out, wrapping her legs around his head, her heels digging into his back.

 

He was hard to the point of pain and he was lapping at her furiously. He forgot he was playing a game with her, forgot that there was an end in mind to this other than the mere joy of pulling his name from her lips just like that. He was determined to make her cum, couldn’t wait to feel her thighs shaking as she road his tongue to her pleasure.

 

He focused on her clit, sucking on it with fervor and she was crying, not crying out but crying tears by the time he was done with her. She rolled her hips against him and it shot right to his cock, imagining her riding it the way she was riding his face. His hands reached up to grasp onto her breasts and found her hands already there. He groaned, looking up at her and tugged the cups of her bra down to release them. He pushed two fingers into her and nodded at her. She knew what he wanted and she took her breasts in her small hands, squeezing them, tweaking the nipples. He moved his fingers in and out of her, nipping her hipbone, circling her bellybutton with his tongue. They were both sweaty already and he hadn’t even entered her. He needed her to beg, needed her to so that he could give her what they both wanted, what it was killing him to deny her.

 

He crawled up her body, his fingers still inside her and lifted her back off the bed. He undid her bra and pulled it off of her. He pushed her back down and her arms splayed up behind her on the pillows like a ragdoll. He descended upon her breasts, taking one in his mouth and sucking slowly on her nipple as he fucked her tantalisingly slow with fingers.

 

“ _Fuck me, please, please, please,”_ she cried, “Take me however you want, Robb, just fuck me please please, _anyway you want_.”

 

Good enough.

 

“You want it?,” he asked her, “Kiss me.”

 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding herself off the bed and pressed her lips to his, forcing his open, sucking his tongue and ridding his lips of any remnants of her. His arm went around her back and held her to him, groaning into her mouth. He sat back on his knees and pulled her with him, and like a choreographed dance she wrapped her legs around his waist. She took his weeping cock in her hand and guided it to her cunt and he shoved inside of her. They both groaned and her hands came to his shoulders tilting her head back as she road his cock.

 

She exposed her body to him and he pressed wet desperate kisses to her perfect breasts, licking up to her collarbone as she rolled her hips on him.

 

“ _Fuuuuuck_ Ella,” he whimpered because she was even better than he expected.

 

“You’re so big, oh god I feel so full,” she moaned and he took her hips in his hands and he pounded into her because that kind of thing could make a man go mad.

 

He fell over on top of her, her head against the pillows but he didn’t miss a beat, fucking her into the mattress as her nails dug patterns in his back.

 

“That’s it Ella,” he cried, “Take it,” he said snapping into her, “Is this what you wanted?”

 

“Yes _sir_ ,” she cried, and then he remembered that she wasn’t just his every day dream, she was his assistant, and it all felt so much better and so much naughtier that he lost himself completely.

 

“I’m going to take you like this at work,” he said, “But you’re going to have to be nice and quiet for me,” he said, rolling his hips and making her moan, “Do you think you’ll be able to do that?,” he asked, bending over and covering her mouth with his hand, “Or is everyone going to know what we’re doing? Is everyone going to know how much you love this cock?”

 

She bit his hand, and there was fire in her eyes. He pulled himself out of her and she whimpered but before she had time to say anything else he flipped her over and pulled her by her hips.

  
“Ass up, Ella,” he commanded and gave her pert little ass a spank.

 

She moaned and he spanked her again. He’d never spanked anyone before and he couldn’t believe he was doing it to her, not her who he would lay down his life to protect, who was the most precious thing in his world.

 

“I asked you a question,” he said in her ear, covering her back with his chest, because the most precious thing in his world was moaning for the animal inside of him.

 

She hesitated and he spanked her again, and he realised then that she liked it.

 

“Oh I see,” he said, squeezing her ass cheeks until they were red, “You like this, don’t you? You like being on your knees for your boss.”

 

“Robb -,” she cried and he spanked her again.

 

“That’s not what you call me when you’re on your knees,” he growled and for a moment he was worried that he’d gone too far, until he realised she was pressing her ass into his hands. “Tell me, sweet girl, tell me.”

 

“I like being on my knees for you, _sir_ ,” she said and let out a yelp and then a giggle when he shoved into her again. “I love this cock.”

 

 _Little minx_ , he thought as he put his hands on her shoulders, thrusting into her.

 

“This cock loves you,” he said, “You’ve made me wait so long, haven’t you? Did you like denying me?”

 

He rolled his hips, one hand encircling her neck and leaned over her again. He was about to repeat himself but she had learned the rules of the game and she turned her head, kissing the hand still on her shoulder, looking at him with those green eyes that stopped his heart every time.

 

“Yes sir,” she nodded, “I liked making you wait,” she grinned lustfully.

 

“No more,” he said, half commanding, half pleading, “Don’t deny me anymore, Ella.”

 

“No more,” she agreed, shaking her head, her soft hair tickling his skin. He pushed it off of her back, pressing kisses in between her shoulder blades. “Show me, sir, show me who I belong to.”

 

“Oh sweet girl,” he said in her ear, teasing the lobe, “You’re never going to forget.”

 

With that he wrapped one arm around her waist, the other pulling her back by her neck and thrust up into her, rolling his hips again and again.

 

“Robb, Robb _Robb_ ,” she was crying.

 

“That’s it, sweet girl, cum for me. Cum on my cock,” he said, begging her now. He wouldn’t last long and he needed to make her cum again.

 

He sat back on his heels pulling her with him and continued to thrust up inside of her, slow and hard and she wrapped her arms back around his head, pulling his hair as her perfect ass smacked against his thighs again and again.

 

He touched a hand to her clit and she went rigid and silent before riding him in ecstasy collapsing forward on the bed, his cock still inside her. The sight of her spent and exhausted threw him over the edge and he came with a shudder, falling on top of her.

 

He rolled over off of her, panting heavily, trying to regain sight.

 

She slowly lowered herself all the way onto the bed and he wondered if her limbs felt like jelly like his did.

 

It had all been so fast, so urgent that he hadn’t really gotten to see how truly perfect she was and he turned on his side tracing the path of her spine with his fingertips. He was already thinking about the next time, how he would take it slow, speak only words of praise and devotion against her skin, handle her with all the care that she deserved. He wondered if he should apologise. She had seemed to enjoy everything he’d done, everything he’d said, but still.

 

“Can I ask you something?,” she asked softly.

 

“You can ask me anything,” he said, waiting for her to say _How dare you?_

 

“Have you slept with any of your other assistants?,” she asked hesitantly.

 

His brow creased, it wasn’t what he’d expected.

 

“No, no of course not,” he shook his head, “Before you there was Roslin and before her was Maege Mormont…who was 50…,” he finished with a grin.

 

She smiled back shyly and propped herself up on an elbow, her face cradled in her palm. Her fingers wandered the path of his abs and he was starting to think this girl was magic because he already felt his body responding to this simple touch.

 

“You just…,” she started and blew out a breath, “Seemed to…I just wondered…with some of the things you said. If this was a _thing_ of yours or if…”

 

His hand disappeared in her hair, running her silky tresses through it.

 

“No,” he said, “No, definitely not. I- I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have…that _isn’t_ what this is. I promise I just…lost control.”

 

To his surprise she grinned. “Really?,” she asked bashfully, “I made you lose control?”

 

He pulled her on top of him, and the feel of her soft breasts against his chest and the closeness of her lips was driving him to insanity.

 

“Of course you did. Ella, I have been barely holding on to any shred of honor I had since the moment I first met you. I have gone mad a little bit every day from wanting you and…when you… _begged_ me…called me that I…I snapped, because I finally had you, and I just…couldn’t contain it anymore,” he said, his hand reaching up to touch her cheek, stroking it tenderly. “But I’m sorry… I should have handled you with the care you deserved. I shouldn’t have teased you, I should have told you how unbelievable it was that you wanted me at all, I should have worshipped you.”

 

“I _liked_ it though,” she said stubbornly, not meeting his gaze and playing with a tuft of his chest hair. “It made me feel like I was _yours_.”

 

“You are mine,” he said vehemently, “As I’m yours. The way I make love to you doesn’t change that. So if you want me to bend you over and fuck you within an inch of your life, I’ll do it, and if you want me to take you slow, I’ll do that too.”

 

“For two weeks,” she said, finally looking at him and he saw that her lower lip was trembling. He rolled them so that he was on top of her, stroking her cheek, his thumb pressing over her lip and holding it steady.

 

“If that’s what you want,” he said. He couldn’t imagine it, not having her with him every day. He wasn’t sure how he would function, professionally surely, but personally as well.

 

“And if it’s not?,” she asked.

 

“Then we’ll figure it out. But there is no distance that would keep me from you. Know that.”

 

She pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb where it covered her lips.

 

“Worship me, Robb,” she said softly.

 

He leaned in and kissed her softly, teasing her lips open almost lazily. Her tongue met his own in a sweet dance and he traced his hand down her body slowly until he felt goosebumps underneath his palm and circled her hip. He took her thigh in his hand and lifted it, easing himself inside of her.

 

“Do you feel that, sweet girl?,” he asked as he began to move. “This too is what it is to be mine.”

 

“I feel it,” she said breathlessly, “You belong to me.”

 

“I belong to you,” he confirmed, he rolled his hips and she gasped, “I’m all yours, sweet girl.”

 

“Mine, mine, _mine_ ,” she cried softly as they moved together as one.

 

She really was spoiled, but he loved her anyway.


	12. Well the things is...

“Ella, can you come in here for a moment please?,” Robb called from his office.

 

He usually came out to ask her for something, or to ask her if he could do something for _her_. He didn’t really seem to understand how the whole _assistant_ thing worked, offering to fetch her vanilla lattes, walking her to meetings.

 

Nobody really _knew_ about them, which of course meant that everyone knew. The press had finally died down, the Tarly family’s company had taken the limelight after it became evident that the father, a nightmare of a man, was trying to push aside his eldest son in favor of his younger. Her family had done business with the Tarly’s over the years and her conversation with Sam the other night had confirmed it. Which is why the fifth office in the executive floor of Stark Industries was being renovated for him now. The point was, however, that for now, nobody cared if Robb Stark was dating his assistant, even if she was a Baratheon.

 

She got up from her desk and smoothed the hem of her black wrap dress, grabbing her pad of paper and a pen and walking into Robb’s office.

 

He was seated at his desk, and he’d removed his dark grey suit jacket. He still wore a tie with his light blue dress shirt but he’d rolled the sleeves up, revealing his forearms which always did something strange to her. His eyes roamed over her and he gave her a small grin.

 

“Can you close the door, please?,” he asked her and she bit her cheek to keep from grinning.

 

He’d been threatening to do this but so far he hadn’t. He was a talker, a big talker, a _dirty_ talker, but he’d been a gentleman in the office. Out of it? Not so much. She had been secretly hoping he’d give in though, they were both usually so pent up from spending the day _not_ touching that by the time they left the office it’s all they did. Sansa and Jon told them last night that they wouldn’t eat dinner with them anymore. Given that it was her last week as his assistant though, she figured he had nothing to lose.

 

She closed the door and pulled the bow of her wrap dress apart at the same time, so when she turned it opened wide revealing her black lace lingerie.

 

Robb’s jaw dropped open and he looked like he might have a heart attack. He cleared his throat though and said, “She’s here Thorne you can go ahead.”

 

Myrcella panicked as though they were video conferencing and went to go rewrap her dress. Robb shook his head at her though and moved his rolling office chair away from the desk, presenting his lap for her.

 

She narrowed her eyes at him and he nodded down to it decisively, his jaw set.

 

“I told you that we needed more time,” Thorne started saying, “I had the conversation with you _three_ times and yet Cassel is here telling me that I don’t have a choice.”

 

“That’s because _Mr_. Cassel, the Chief Financial Officer of your parent company and I did a little bit of research and found out that the reason you weren’t going to have the electricians that you needed was because none of the proper electricians would work with you anymore,” she said and walked over to Robb.

 

He patted his leg and she sat on it but focused her attention on the phone call. She pushed Robb’s face away when he went to go kiss her neck and he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look him in the eye. She whimpered when she saw the heat in them.

 

He ran his hand down her body, the body she had so helpfully exposed to him and cupped her through her panties.

 

“You went behind my back and talked to my guys?,” Thorne asked her and that was the moment that Robb chose to find her clit.

 

“Yes, _yes_ ,” she said to him and then forced herself to focus, “I mean…they are hardly your guys if you refuse to pay them appropriately for overtime or when you blame them for issues in your buildings after you ignore their advice.”

 

Robb had taken to circling her clit gently with his finger, patiently as he pressed hot open mouthed kisses to her neck and she squirmed against him. It was her that was grinding against him, needing more, needing him. She hit the mute button and let out a moan that fell against his lips as he devoured her.

 

“Look I don’t know how they do things in the South, princess,” Thorne said, “But I won’t be lectured by a child let alone a Lannister on proper business practices.”

 

Robb broke apart from her and growled, unmuting the call, “You will take lectures from anyone that I see fit. Miss _Baratheon_ as you will be addressing her from now on operates with the full support of Stark Industries behind her, and she not only has an exponentially firmer handle on business practices but also better relationships with those electricians than you could ever hope to.”

 

“Well just Gendry, really,” she pointed out, “But what can you do? Families talk, you know how it is Mr. Thorne,” she said lightly and placed her hand on Robb’s cheek, willing him to calm down. “The point of the matter is, we at Stark Industries have _every_ faith that you and your team will be able to complete construction by the end of this month and if you ever feel that pesky self-doubt I bet Mr. Cassel will be happy to reassure you.”

 

“Don’t mistake that sweetness for forgiveness, Thorne,” Robb growled, “You have now not only risked the integrity of my family’s company but you have also disrespected not one but _two_ of our most valued employees… And you are right, we do things a little differently up here. The North remembers and so do I. Good luck, Thorne, for your sake, I hope this all goes well,” he said and hung up.

 

“You’re crazy,” she said as soon as he did, but she was already undoing his tie.

 

“You’re the one who started undressing in my office like every day dream I’ve ever had,” he said, standing up and placing her on his desk.

 

“I meant about Thorne,” she said as he pried her legs open and pulled down her panties. “He won’t forget that.”

 

“Good,” he said, as he undid his belt, pulling his pants down and revealing his large hard cock. “He disrespected you.”

 

“If you refuse to work with everyone in this country that hates a Lannister, you aren’t going to be able to work with anyone. Not even half the Lannisters,” she joked though her mouth had gone dry at the sight of him.

 

He was not in a joking mood though and yanked her to him, his hands holding the bottoms of her thighs as he bent his knees and pressed his tip against her entrance.

 

“He disrespected _you_ , Ella,” he grumbled, “No one gets to disrespect you.”

 

With that he shoved inside of her. She covered her mouth to muffle her moan and he let out a strangled grunt. He thrust inside of her again and she placed her hands back on the desk, bracing herself for the power of his movements.

 

“Because I’m _yours_?,” she challenged.

 

“That’s not why they should respect you,” he said and he stopped moving. “They should respect you because you’re _brilliant_ ,” _thrust,_ “and intuitive,” _thrust,_ “and hard working,” _thrust,_ “But if that isn’t enough, baby, then _yes._ Nobody disrespects the girl that I love.”

 

_Love? Did he just say love?_

 

She wants to ask but he began thrusting into her in earnest again. It was harder than before and she saw stars as he pulled one of her legs up higher, allowing him in deeper than she would have thought possible. She kissed him deeply and he devoured her, nipping at her lips.

 

“ _Robb_ ,” she whimpered, “You’re making me want to scream. Have mercy on me.”

 

“Tonight, baby,” he grunted out through gritted teeth, rolling into her harshly, “Tonight you can scream for me as loud as you want. But now I need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me? Can you be a _good girl_?”

 

“Yes _sir_ ,” she said softly, her eyes on his. She moved so that she could wrap her arms around his neck, holding onto him instead, “I’ll be your good girl. _Yours, yours yours.”_

 

She felt her orgasm building. He was hitting her in the exact right spot, he knew just how to make her body sing for him.

 

“That’s it baby,” he said in her ear, his hands gripping her thigh and back, “I’ve been thinking about this for _so_ long. You know I have. When we go for our meeting with Barristan you’re still going to feel me inside of you and I’m going to be wearing you all day until I can have you again.”

 

It was filthy, this was filthy, but gods be good if it wasn’t the best sex of her life.

 

“ _Robb_ ,” she warned, her fingers grasping him for dear life.

 

“I’ve got you baby, I’m gonna come with you, I’m right here, that’s it, we’re so close, so close,” he said and snapped into her.

 

She came with a sigh and felt him pulse into her. It was her now, supporting him as he held onto her tightly. She hugged him close and stroked her fingers through his thick russet curls.

 

“What do you think the chances of everyone _not_ knowing what we just did are?,” she asked him as they both came down.

 

“Slim to none,” he said with a grin, pulling away and kissing her lips, “Everyone knows you don’t wear make up, so this blush, these _red_ lips, there’s only one thing that could cause them.”

 

“You could try not looking so satisfied about it,” she chided though there was no real bite in it.

 

He was the one who was more eager to take their relationship public, though when Margery Tyrell had called for him the other day, leaving a message saying that _He still owes me a lunch, he’ll know what I mean_ she had wanted to scratch her beautiful blue eyes out through the phone, or at the very least say _He’s mine bitch_. She hadn’t of course, but when she’d handed Robb the message and promptly walked out of the office for the day (it was after six anyway), he had run to catch up with her and pointed out that occasions like that could be avoided if they stopped hiding.

 

“No,” he said as he helped her back down. He took her face in his hands and kissed her slowly. When he pulled away his blue eyes were drinking her in, “I’m never going to pretend that I am not the most utterly satisfied man in the world.”

 

“You’re a barbarian,” she said. _And I love you_.

 

“And you’re divine,” he returned. _I love you too._

 

_***_

 

Robb groaned in satisfaction. He was spoiled, way too spoiled and he was pretty sure one of these days Ella Baratheon might just kill him.

 

“Better than the Braavosi chicken,” he said and her eyes got wide with excitement.

 

She smiled as she chewed her glazed salmon and nodded as she swallowed.

 

“I think you’re right,” she said and took a sip of the wine he’d brought, “Another to add to the list to truly annoy Cersei Lannister.”

 

Ella had told him once, before they’d even gotten together, on one of their work lunches, one of those times that he’d been fighting so hard to grab her hand or offer to pay or _anything_ , that her mother absolutely hated that she liked to cook. _We have chefs for that Myrcella, and you do not want your husband coming home to find you barefoot in the kitchen - waiting for him._

 

He had kind of understood the last bit. Myrcella was being groomed for corner offices in _both_ of her family’s companies, and the rumors went that both were preparing packages for her to entice her away from the other come her graduation in the spring. He understood her mother not wanting her beholden to a husband, not when she had fought so hard for her _own_ corner office in Lannister Corp. He was a bit insulted by it on behalf of his own mother who didn’t _officially_ work, despite the long hours she spent devoted to her charities and the community, but who tried to have dinner waiting for his father at least four times a week. Then again it wasn’t just for his father, it was for him and his siblings too, and he knew that _togetherness_ is what his father valued not the meal. And truthfully he couldn’t understand her mother trying to suppress something that brought Ella joy.

 

“Top of the list,” he assured her.

 

They were dining out on her roof deck and he’d lit candles and set the table while Ella had finished up inside. She wasn’t barefoot and she hadn’t been _waiting_ for him, they had arrived to her home together and talked as they divvied out tasks. Even still with her sitting there with his suit jacket draped over her to protect her from the cool breeze of a Northern summer, he couldn’t help but think about what it might be like if this was _every_ night.

 

They were dining up here for multiple reasons though, one of which being that she was in the process of packing up the townhouse, not just to bring her things back but preparing the house to be unused for the next while. There would in fact be members of staff who came to do the task officially but Ella wouldn’t leave the whole thing for them.

 

“Ginny, Sadie and Lynn want to take me to lunch tomorrow,” Ella said to him, “Is it alright if I’m gone from one to two? I know you have another call with Sam, are you okay doing it without me?”

 

 _No_ , he wanted to tell her, _I’m not okay doing anything without you._

 

If there had ever been a doubt as to what a merit she was to their company in anyone’s eyes it had been disintegrated when she’d called Sam Tarly’s personal cell phone from the conference room of Stark Industries.

 

_“H-hey Ella,” a timid voice had said._

 

_“Sammy!,” she’d said brightly, a perfect contrast to the tension in Jon and his father’s postures. “How’s your mom?”_

 

_“She’s… well not so good at the moment,” he’d said and they all shifted uncomfortably when they heard him holding back tears._

 

_Ella had looked around and then picked up the phone so he’d be off speaker phone._

 

_“We all know that this is the moment that Tarly & Partners has lost relevance FOREVER, Sammy,” Ella said kindly, “You think the things you do go unnoticed but they don’t. I know that Bracken deal was on the verge of collapse before you got involved last summer… Don’t deny it…because I have spies who tell me these things - we know this,” she had said with a grin that told Robb this was a particular joke between the two._

 

_“The point of the matter is Sam, that you are looking for a job, am I right?,” she asked and nodded at them all, “No…don’t take that meeting. Yes I know that Lannister Corp. is the top company in the south but don’t - Samwell Tarly will you listen to me for a moment? You are brilliant, the best at what you do, but you are not going to be valued at Lannister Corp. There is a thing between my grandfather and your father and this is just Tywin Lannister sticking it to Randyll Tarly, do not take that meeting. Well it’s funny you should ask…you didn’t happen to see that I was calling you from a Northern number, did you? Mmmhm, yes I’ve been at Stark Industries for the summer - you are so cheeky, watch it - and I’m sitting here with Misters Stark, Senior and Junior and Mr. Jon Snow. I think you should hear what they have to say…”_

 

_With that she put him once again on speakerphone._

 

_“Mr. Tarly,” his father started._

 

_“Please call me Sam, Mr. Stark,” the man on the other line said. He was far more confident than he had been only moments before._

 

_“Sam,” Jon said. They knew each other from one business deal or another and he knew that Jon always liked him. “You’ve got to come up here and work with us.”_

 

_“Well I’m very flattered of course, but my whole life is down here,” Sam said, “Not that there is much of a life of course but…”_

 

_“We’re a family up here,” Robb assured him, “From everything we’ve heard we think you’ll fit in perfectly. It won’t just be a job.”_

 

_They could practically hear the wheels turning in his head and then he said begrudgingly, as though they might hang up on him, “I won’t give anything away. About Tarly & Partners I mean. I know everyone wants me to, expects me to because of my father but…there are so many good people who have worked for my family for generations…I’m sorry but I can’t.”_

 

_Robb grinned at Ella, who spoke up before anyone else could._

 

_“Sammy, they wouldn’t hire you if you would. It’s different up here,” she said, “You’ll see. I’m really quite jealous actually. Take a risk - trust me.”_

 

_“Ella trusting you is the least risky thing I’ve ever done, which you know says a lot,” he joked and they all laughed, “I’d…well I’d just be delighted. I’ll book my plane ticket tonight. Thank you all, thanks for the call Ella.”_

 

She blushed and shook her head, “I didn’t mean, _of course_ you can handle it on your own. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me there to help go over logistics or anything and let him know how things are coming hiring his new assistant.”

 

“No baby,” he said, “We can go over it in the morning, I don’t think I can give him Gilly, she’s the only one who suggested the same filing system that you have -“

 

“Robb my filing system is not that complicated,” she said with a grin, then nodded, “Though I do think you should hire Gilly. She deserves the role.”

 

Robb knew that Gilly was a single mother to a one year old boy and that Ella had hugged her on her way out, walking her to the elevators, the two having too much to say to one another for a single interview.

 

He nodded, he knew that Ella’s system wasn’t complicated, it was deceptively simple, but now he couldn’t live without it and he stubbornly didn’t want to have to explain it to someone. She’d spoiled him, the double-edged sword of having an assistant that was meant to have an assistant herself, and if he couldn’t hold onto _her_ then he was at least going to hold onto the practicalities of the business part of their relationship.

 

“I’m going to,” he assured her, “Tomorrow is your last day, baby, it’s going to be filled with stuff like this. You have exit interviews with Jon, my dad, and Rodrick, not to mention me _and_ HR… I don’t expect that it will be a horribly productive day for you and I know how much _the ladies_ are going to miss you. You should absolutely go for lunch with them.”

 

She smiled at him warily and nodded, before setting her fork and knife down. 

 

“We haven’t talked about it,” she pointed out.

 

She didn’t have to specify _what_ they hadn’t talked about, he knew. They had both broached the subject multiple times, but then one of them would kiss the other or change the subject wanting to spend their time laughing, and it just hadn’t happened.

 

“Okay,” he nodded, wiping his mouth and setting his napkin down, “Let’s talk.”

 

“Well I think there’s something you should know,” she said warily, “Something that is rather important to what happens next.”

 

His stomach clenched but he nodded and said, “Go on…”

 

“Well you see the thing is,” she said fidgeting with the hem of her dress, “The _thing_ is…,” she stalled and he was getting well and truly nervous and then she let out a deep breath and looked up at him and said, “The thing is that I’m just completely in love with you.”

 

He looked at her in shock. He wasn’t exactly sure what he thought she was going to say but that was not it. He knew he loved her too, everyone knew, his father had known since before he’d called the Bolton deal off. He’d even told her, the other day in the heat of the moment, but even still her confession caught him off guard.

 

“Completely?,” he asked dumbly.

 

“Irrevocably,” she nodded, “Madly,” she said with a smile, “Overwhelmingly.”

 

He let out a little laugh, but there were tears in his eyes and he stood up and brought her with him.

 

“Well then I think it’s important that I tell you that I’m in love with you too,” he started and now she was laughing too. “Just really in love with you,” he said shaking his head, “Stupidly, passionately, uncontrollably in love with you.”

 

“So what does this mean now?,” she asked. She would be going home for a week to see her family and then heading back for her last year at Vale University.

 

“It means that I’m going to handle all projects with the Royces and Arryns for the next year,” he told her, “And that we’ll both have to use some of our frequent flyer miles…”

 

He knew it would be difficult not to be with her every day, but they could do this.

 

“And after I graduate?,” she asked though, “No matter which of my family’s companies I end up in…they will want me in the South.”

 

Of course they would want her in the South. They weren’t so foolish as to not realise what they had with her. Even still, he wasn’t worried.

 

“We’ll take it as it comes,” he assured her, and kissed her, “But for now, let me give you something to think about on nights when we won’t be together.”

 

With that he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, already kissing his neck and jaw, the salmon as delicious as it was completely forgotten.

 

“How are you at phone sex, Robb Stark?,” she asked curiously as he walked her carefully down the stairs to her room.

 

“We’re going to find out,” he said with a grin as he plopped her on her bed. He crawled on top of her and stroked her face, “But not tonight, Ella. Tonight you’re still here, in my arms.”

 

He kissed her again and they touched each other everywhere. After only two weeks he could already say that their sex life was more varied than any other relationship he’d had. Sometimes it was hard and rough with dirty words shared between them, sometimes it was slow and sweet with unspoken love shared between them, but no matter what, it was always dizzying and satisfying and _more_ than sex.

 

Tonight though, was different. Tonight their love was not unspoken, it was whispered against lips and promised against ears, it was in the feel of her small fingers interlocked with his and the smell of jasmine as her hair fell all around them, it was where their bodies were joined and their breath intermingled. It was in the call of his name and the cry of hers. It was everywhere in that bed, where they could be wrapped around one another so much that it seemed almost impossible that soon they would be parted.


	13. Monday, Monday, Monday

It was hard to believe that it was her last day of Stark Industries. She and Robb had arrived together, bringing Nan her green tea.

 

_“Oh my dear, are you really going to leave us?,” Nan asked her._

 

_“I don’t want to,” she said, meaning it. “Can I come back and visit?”_

 

_“Anytime. And don’t you worry about this one,” she said, pointing to Robb. “I’ll keep a look out, make sure no floozies flutter around him.”_

 

_“Nan, Ella is my assistant,” Robb said with a grin. “I have no idea what you’re insinuating.”_

 

_“Look at this face,” Nan said to him, “You can’t fool old, do you hear me?”_

 

_“Yes ma’am,” Robb said shamefaced._

 

She’d gone through all of her files and written out instructions for Gilly on the status of all of Robb’s projects, the calls she should always intercept, and the calls she should always put through (his siblings and his mother’s). He’d reviewed it all and made a correction and handed it back to her. Underneath the list of names of callers to always put through he had added _Ella Baratheon_.

 

_“Well how do you know I’m even going to call you?,” she teased, with the safety of the door being shut._

 

_“I don’t know, something about you being completely in love with me?,” he teased back._

 

_“Oh right, that.”_

 

 

She’d had her exit interview with HR where she’d assured them that her time at Stark Industries had been more than satisfactory, that she had no intention of suing anyone over the Bolton situation, and they’d assure her that they would be very happy to write her a recommendation.

 

She’d had lunch with the other assistants, the three of them convincing her to have a glass of champagne with them.

 

_“What are they going to do, fire us?,” Lynn asked with a guffaw._

 

_Roslin’s termination hadn’t scared any of them, who had Ned, Jon and Rodrick so dependent on them it seemed impossible the company could run without them._

 

_“I suppose that’s true, though I still have to meet with Mr. Stark, so just the one, ladies,” she said with a grin, cheersing them._

 

_“Oh please, he’s almost as sweet on you as his son,” Sadie said with a grin, “He’ll have a picture you on his desk next to Sansa and Arya before long.”_

 

_“I have no idea what you’re insinuating,” she said before -taking a sip of champagne._

 

_“Work it girl,” Ginny teased._

 

She had just gotten back to the office and brushed her teeth. She checked in with Robb briefly but he was on a call so she’d merely tapped her watch, reminding him that he had another call at 2:30 before heading down towards Jon’s office.

 

“Knock, knock Mr. Boss Man,” she said, tapping on his office door.

 

“How much champagne did you give Lynn?,” he asked her.

 

“She only had one,” she said defensively then added with a grin, “Bottle.”

 

“You are a cheeky little shit, Baratheon,” he said and then added, “Fuck don’t tell HR I said that.”

 

“Don’t worry,” she told him, closing the door to his office and taking a seat on his couch, “I already had my exit interview with them, you’re in the clear.”

 

“So,” he said, making a big show of the notebook and pen in his hands, “How did you find your time at Stark Industries?”

 

“Life changing,” she answered truthfully.

 

He grinned and wrote down her answer. 

 

“How long did you work here?,” he asked her.

 

“Two months and 28 days,” she told him.

 

“And how long as Robb’s assistant?,” he asked her.

 

“Two months and 14 days,” she answered.

 

“And how long have you been in love with him?,” he asked her.

 

“Two months and- you cheeky little shit!,” she said and giggled.

 

He placed the notepad down on the table and said, “Seriously El, you can’t go.”

 

She felt tears spring to her eyes. She wasn’t just leaving Robb, she was leaving Jon and Pod and Arya and _Sansa_. She was leaving a whole life behind.

 

“I have to,” she said, playing with the hem of her dress, “And the thing is Jon I could deal with it if it was just for the school year. If I knew I was coming back.”

 

Jon looked at her sympathetically but she thought she saw something mirthful in his gaze as well. He nodded at her though.

 

“Don’t think about that, El. We’ll all be down to visit, you won’t get rid of us so easy,” he promised.

 

She nodded and wiped a tear. Something about Jon always made her terribly honest and she didn’t want to leave his office with a blotchy face.

 

“So, Jon Snow, can I count on you as a reference?,” she asked him with a small smile.

 

“I wouldn’t,” he said with a grin. “I’m going to blackball you until your only choice is to come back here and _run_ Stark Industries.”

 

She chuckled, he and Robb both overassessed her talents, of that she was sure.

 

His eyes turned serious though and said, “But actually El. Yeah, count on me as a reference, count on me for anything. Okay? Never hesitate to call. I’ll get on a plane, no questions asked. You know that right?”

 

She kissed his cheek, “Yeah Mr. Snow, I know that.”

 

They stood and hugged, and she settled into his strong embrace. It wasn’t the last time they’d see each other before she left on Sunday, they were having dinner with Sansa and Robb tomorrow evening, but even still.

 

“I love you, kid,” he said a bit gruffly, “Who do you still have to meet with?”

 

“Mr. Stark and Robb,” she said, smoothing her dress.

 

“Oh I’d love to be a fly on the wall for _that_ exit interview. I love you more, no I love _you_ more,” he teased and she grinned shoving him.

 

“Later Mr. Boss Man,” she said and left the office.

 

She checked her watch and had just enough time to stop by her desk and check her email before her meeting with Mr. Stark. She fired off a couple of emails and then grabbed a notepad and pen, heading down the hall.

 

“You can go on in,” Sadie said with a grin and Ella tapped lightly on the door before poking her head in.

 

“Myrcella, come in dear,” Mr. Stark said as he stood, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

 

He went to his door and closed it before taking his own seat again and she crossed her ankles, opening up the notebook in her lap.

 

“Myrcella, I’d like to begin by saying that you have been a credit to this company since the first day you walked in,” he said. “I know it was no small task that Robb asked of you, you had planned on a summer internship and you took on so much more, far surpassing the requirements of an assistant. That is not the sort of thing that goes unnoticed here.”

 

“Thank you for saying so, Mr. Stark, but it was a true privilege. I knew that I would gain unparalleled experience here, but the way that you and Robb and Jon and Rodrick have allowed me… a seat at the table, for lack of a better phrase, surpassed my wildest expectations,” she said earnestly, “I cannot say what the work I have done here has meant to me.”

 

“You do not need to, it _shows_ , not just in the long hours or your focus but in your spirit and your willingness to engage and strategise,” he said, shaking his head, “You have a bright future, a very bright future ahead of you.”

 

She blushed and thanked him.

 

“With your permission, what are your plans for after graduation? I assume both Robert and Tywin are fighting for you….,” he said with a smile.

 

She felt the nervous pit in her stomach that she always did when she thought of choosing between her parent’s companies. In truth there were aspects of each that she liked and aspects of each that she didn’t. She’d have more responsibility at her grandfather’s company but more jurisdiction at her father’s. At her grandfather’s she’d have to work with Joffrey but at her father’s she’d have to work with any number of his mistresses. Not to mention that she knew enough to know that neither of her family’s companies acted a hundred percent above board, there would be blood on her hands as soon as she signed the contracts.

 

“They have both made strong cases…,” she allowed. He looked at her kindly so she went on, “But I have not made any firm decisions.”

 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said and reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a small stack of papers and placed it in front of her.

 

She read the first few lines and then looked up at him.

 

“This is a job offer,” she said to him and then looked back down at the stack of papers, lifting the first and seeing phrases like _Vice President_ and _equity._

 

“It is,” he nodded, then smiled, “If there is going to be a bidding war for you we figured we might as well throw our hat in the ring.”

 

“We?,” she asked.

 

“You would be entering at the executive level, Myrcella, that requires unanimous approval,” he said, “Turn to page five.”

 

She turned to the last page and saw the familiar names _Eddard Stark, Robb Stark, Rodrick Cassel, Jon Snow._ Even _Samwell Tarly_. They would have had to send this to him along with his contract.

 

She let her fingers trace over the indents of Robb’s signature, his approval vehement.

 

“Mr. Stark, there’s something you should know…,” she said, something she was not sure if Robb had told him.

 

“If we are going to talk about how you and my son are in love, perhaps you could call me Ned and I could call you Ella?,” he asked her with a kindly smile.

 

She giggled and nodded, “That seems fair, Ned.”

 

“It isn’t because of that,” he said, “And now I don’t want to get my son in trouble here, but he wasn’t even the one who suggested it.”

 

She sighed in relief. She had been afraid that it was Robb and that the others had simply gone along with it.

 

“And if you can _guess_ who it was, I’ll add another few hundred shares to the offer,” he said with a grin.

 

She squinted her eyes at him, putting on her best negotiation face.

 

“ _If_ I guess correctly,” she said, considering what she wanted, “You give the extra shares to Gilly, Robb’s new assistant.”

 

His eyes crinkled at her and he nodded.

 

“Rodrick,” she said after a moment, thinking of the gruff old man that would call her from the road asking about engineers in King’s Landing only to ask her about different restaurants to go to and how his assistant Ginny was doing and if Robb was treating her correctly.

 

“I’ll have HR add the shares to Gilly’s package before I leave today,” Ned said, shaking his head. “Regardless if you choose to accept the offer, I’d like you to know that my son could not have chosen better. For his assistant or his girlfriend. I know what a fan of you my girls are, and how much you helped Sansa through all that nonsense with Jon, and I know you had a hard time of it with the press but you handled yourself like the lady you are without being daunted. I have seen a bit for myself in working with you, and with that bit of negotiation right there, but my children speak of your kindness as though it is the stuff of myths. I look forward to knowing you and it better, Ella. You make him so _very_ happy.”

 

She blushed and nodded, “I have wanted to thank you for a long time for the children you have raised. Sansa and Arya feel like sisters of my own, and Robb… he makes me happier than I would have thought I was capable of being.”

 

“I had a feeling…,” he said with a grin, “But it pleases a father to hear it all the same. You’ll tell me if he ever starts to slip, won’t you?”

 

“I promise, though no offence but I think Arya scares him more than you do…,” she said and he chuckled. “May I take this with me?,” she asked, picking up the contract.

 

“Of course, there is no rush. That offer stands until you are ready to take it,” he said and stood so she did too.

 

She offered her his hand, and he took it and shook it firmly, before raising it to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to it.

 

They said their goodbyes and she left his office, heading down the hall to her last exit interview of the day. She breathed in and out, gathering herself before she knocked.

 

***

 

He was on pins and needles waiting for Ella. They had hardly seen each other at all that day, but it had grown worse when she was in with his father, knowing what he would be telling her, offering her.

 

He tried to check emails, make some calls, but nothing worked and he took to simply pacing. He finally heard her knock and he called, “Come in.”

 

She had fire in her eyes as she closed the door and she said by way of greeting, “Do you have a pen?”

 

“Uhh…yeah,” he said, walking over and grabbing her one, “But this isn’t really a take notes sort of thing.”

 

She took it from and slammed a stack of papers on the desk, flipping them and then he saw the page of signatures. He watched as she added her own in her elegant script and then closed the distance between him and kissed him.

 

He kissed her back hungrily because he was dying to, but more than that because she had just signed a contract to join Stark Industries upon her graduation. She would be a Vice President, to begin with, with an office and assistant of her own. She would have stock in his company, now theirs, and she would be _here_. Here in nine short months.

 

“Are you sure?,” he asked her, holding her cheeks in his hands, “Your family won’t be happy.”

 

“My family is never happy,” she said and pulled him back to her, kissing him again. “But we are, aren’t we? _So very happy_.”

 

“So happy, baby,” he promised, kissing her again. “Oh my love, we will be together again soon.”

 

“That is not why? Right? I know it was Rodrick who suggested it, but…,” she trailed off, looking up at him with her wide green eyes. “You would not have signed your name had you not thought I was capable in my own right, right?”

 

“Right,” he assured her honestly, “I _love_ you, I love you beyond reason or sense, but to be honest, baby… you also kind of terrify me. I…we… didn’t want to have to compete against you.”

 

“I terrify you?,” she asked with a grin.

 

“You could _try_ not being so gleeful about it,” he teased, kissing her again.

 

“Nine months,” she said, shaking her head, “In nine months I will return as a permanent employee of Stark Industries and you and I… we will be together.”

 

He thought of waking up with Ella, leaving the office together to meet Jon and Sansa for dinner, of spending weekends at Winterfell. He thought of having her in his bed, _their_ bed, every night, and her brilliant mind in the office every day.

 

“We will be together,” he repeated, because after all, it was all that mattered, “Three months you walked into my life and changed it forever, Ella Baratheon. I am never letting you go, not unless you beg me to.”

 

“If you’re waiting for me to beg,” she said with a grin, like she had weeks ago, “Then we will never be parted.”

 

He leaned down and kissed her, because when the love of your life stood in front of you and told you they never wanted to be parted from you, there was very little else to do that would make sense.

 

She kissed him back hungrily, her hands fingering his lapels as his disappeared into her hair.

 

His phone started ringing and she broke away and answered it, hopping up on his desk.

 

“Robb Stark’s line, this is Ella speaking,” she said, and her voice was calm but her face was flushed and her eyes bright. “I’ll have to leave word,” she said and then spread her legs, hiking her dress up her thighs. “Yes,” she said grabbing a notepad and paper and Robb took advantage, reaching underneath her dress and pulling her underwear down. He knelt to the floor in front of her and went underneath her dress, pressing his tongue against her, _“Yes…yesss he’ll call you back_. He’s just um…,” she said as he started lathering her with his tongue, “Eating a late lunch…,” she said and he chuckled against her, “He’ll call you back so-,” she started and he gripped her thighs harshly, “It might be Monday,” she corrected and he went back to worshipping her, “Mmmm yes Monday, Monday, _Monday_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to end this one. I hope you all enjoyed it!!

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have a bunch of WiPs but what can I say? Hope you enjoy :)


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